


The Secret Diary of Howard Moon, Aged 13 and 2/3

by A_Little_Boosh_Maid



Series: The Diary of Howard Moon [1]
Category: Adrian Mole Series - Sue Townsend, The Mighty Boosh (TV)
Genre: 1980s, Actors, Age-Appropriate Sex/Romance Themes, Androgyny, Bad Poetry, Birthday Parties, Books, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Bullying, Camping, Canon Disabled Character, Christmas, Conkers, Crimping, Crossdressing, Diary, Dogs, Easter, Era-Typical Non-PC Language, Family, Feminist Themes, First Love, Friendship, High School, Holidays, Hospitals, Illness, Jazz - Freeform, LGBT Themes, Lakes, Libraries, London, Love Games, M/M, Mention of Possible Hate Crime, Mention of possible suicide, Mild Sexual Harrassment, Mountains, New Year's Eve, Parties, Pining, Porn Watching, Pregnancy, Prequel, Puberty Blues, Punk, Reunions, Revelations, School trips, Stalking, Summer Holidays, Teen Crush, Travel, Underage Drinking, Values Dissonance, Wales, baby gays, badass grandparents, gender fluidity, homophobic attitudes, horny teens, mild violence, roller skating, zoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:22:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 55,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22424020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Little_Boosh_Maid/pseuds/A_Little_Boosh_Maid
Summary: I was re-reading "The Secret Diary of Adrian Mole, Aged 13 3/4" by Sue Townsend, when it occurred to me that it could easily be the diary of a young Howard Moon. Move the action to Leeds, throw in some jazz and stationery, change a few characters around, and you've written Howard Moon's teenage diary. Updated monthly.
Relationships: Howard Moon & Vince Noir
Series: The Diary of Howard Moon [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2095785
Comments: 84
Kudos: 44





	1. January

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Howard Moon is a far from ordinary schoolboy in Leeds, trying to become the world's greatest slap-bass guitarist, while discovering he is an intellectual jazz poet and learning his best friend Leroy has become a punk. Just before school goes back, he meets an intriguing boy named Vince Noir with a tragic past who befriends he and Leroy.

**Thursday January 1st**  
_New Year's Day. Bank Holiday in England, Scotland, Ireland, and Wales_

These are my New Year's Resolutions:

1\. I will write in my diary every day  
2\. I will keep my pens and pencils tidy  
3\. I will do exercises to jazz every night to stay fit  
4\. I will help the elderly, the blind, pregnant women, and other helpless people  
5\. I will become the greatest slap-bass jazz guitarist in the world  
6\. I will take the dog for its walk every night without being asked  
7\. I will make at least one friend who is interested in jazz  
8\. I will learn to talk to girls without my palms getting sweaty and my voice going funny

**Friday January 2nd**  
_Bank Holiday in Scotland_

I started organising my pens and pencils. Once I had them in separate wooden pencil and pen holders, all in a row, it struck me that they looked just like houses in a village street, so I got out my paints and painted them to look like houses, each one different to the others. The street looked bare, so I made little Sellotape trees to line it – the stickier the Sellotape, the higher the branches.

Only the second day of January, and I've already completed a New Year's Resolution! Took the dog for its walk.

**Saturday January 3rd**

I think I am turning into an intellectual. I listened to _Jazz Record Requests_ on Radio Three as usual, to see if he played my request for more Weather Report. No such luck, bloody typical. Instead of switching off, I kept listening to _Critic's Forum_ , where they talk about books and plays, and I understood nearly every word.

It all adds up. Feeling lonely and isolated all the time. Not understanding girls. Liking jazz. Wearing corduroy. I asked Mum what you should do if you are an intellectual, and she said "Join the library, I suppose. Look, have you seen my pinking shears?". I think I shall join, and see what happens.

**Sunday January 4th**  
_Second after Christmas_

We went to see Nana and Grandpa in Wakefield. Nana made a brilliant roast beef with Yorkshire pudding. Dad kept saying nobody else could make Yorkshire pudding like his mum. This put my mother in a bad mood. Nana said her secret is that she makes her own lard, while Mum just buys her lard from Budgens. Mum said Budgens sell perfectly good lard, and Nana got a superior little smile on her face.

Nana's Yorkshire pudding is the best in the world, but I can't tell her that, or Mum will be hurt. I just said they both make very nice Yorkshire pudding. For some reason, this didn't please either of them. I saved some of my roast beef to give to the dog.

**Monday January 5th**

Leroy came round today. His parents took him to Spain for their Christmas holidays, so he is all brown. I think the heat has weakened his system, so that he will probably catch an illness now he is back in England. The cold will come as too much of a shock. I think it was wrong to take him abroad.

After Leroy left, I made Blu-Tak gardens for all the houses in Stationery Village. I've had to set up a separate table for it.

**Tuesday January 6th**  
_Epiphany. New Moon._

I have written my first poem. It only took me two minutes.

_Jazz, a poem by Howard Moon_

Are you aware of jazz, of the movement known as jazz  
Come up through the Louisiana swamps  
Cool and slow, and hard to master?  
Do you hate jazz, do you fear jazz?  
Do you fear the lack of rules, the lack of boundaries?  
It's a fence – no, it's soft!  
What's happening? The shapes, the chaos!  
Jooby-doo bop, voo-voo-voo, bap-bow-wow, scooby-scat, yeah!

I wrote to _Critic's Forum_ to tell them I'd become an intellectual jazz poet after listening to their program, and asked them what I should do about it. I hope they write back soon, because I'm getting fed up with being a jazz poet living and working in intellectual isolation. I need to communicate with others of my kind.

I read my poem to Dad, but he argued that jazz didn't come up through the Louisiana swamps, and I'd used part of a song by The Doors. I think my father is being too literal, and has failed to understand my use of the homage. I heard that word on _Critic's Forum_ , and then looked it up in the dictionary I got for Christmas. It wasn't where I thought it would be.

**Wednesday January 7th**

Leroy came round again. He rode his new racing bike that he got for Christmas. It is wasted on Leroy, all he does on it is ride to the shops. If I had a racing bike I would travel all the highways and byways, having adventures, and become King of the Road.

I asked Dad how come I didn't get a new bike for Christmas, and he said I got an eight-track stereo and an electric bass guitar. Typical! If my parents noticed anything about me, they would have seen I've grown at least two inches in the past year, and my current bike is too small for me now.

Leroy let me have a ride of his bike, and the dog ran after me the whole way.

**Thursday January 8th**

I joined the library today. I could feel the last remnants of my childhood falling away from me as I received my own laminated library card.

I got out _Poetry in the Making_ , _The True History of the Elephant Man_ , and a book called _Pride and Prejudice_ by a woman called Jane Austen that my mum keeps going on about. I could tell the librarian was impressed. Perhaps she too is an intellectual. She looks intellectual. She wears glasses, has her hair in a bun, and her name tag says she is called Mrs Gideon.

**Friday January 9th**

Finished _Pride and Prejudice_. It's about a grumpy bastard called Mr Darcy, but girls all still love him because he's rich and handsome. Typical! Then an ordinary girl makes him act nice to her, so he falls in love with her. Yeah, right. I thought the book might help me talk to girls, but if I talked to girls like Mr Darcy does, they'd kick me in the goolies.

Mum kept going on about Mr Darcy in this excited sort of way that made me worry she really wants to be married to a handsome wealthy landowner from Derbyshire, and not a scruffy Geography teacher from Leeds like my father. If we ever go on holiday to the Peak District, I shall be sure to keep a close eye on her.

**Saturday January 10th**

_The True History of the Elephant Man_ was dead sad. He got treated like a weird freak, just because he was hideously deformed. Like me, he was forced to live a life of lonely isolation, but in my case, it's because I'm an intellectual jazz poet, not because I've got a massive head I have to keep in a sack.

 _Poetry in the Making_ is good, with lots of exercises on writing poems. The author managed to be an intellectual and a poet, even though he was from West Yorkshire, so I feel that there must be hope for me.

Leroy came around tonight, and brought all his favourite records with him. He had Generation X, Stiff Little Fingers, The Exploited, X, Iggy Pop, Black Flag, The Ramones, Dead Kennedys, and The Teardrop Explodes. Leroy said he has decided to be a punk, because he doesn't fit into society, and is filled with a boundless inner rage.

What a load of crap! Leroy gets along well with everyone, and he's always in a good mood. It's me who doesn't fit into society, and I'm much angrier than Leroy. I just prefer to keep it inside rather to shout it from the rooftops. Not being into punk must be another sign I'm an intellectual jazz poet.

The dog doesn't like punk music either – it whined when we put the records on.

**Sunday January 11th**  
_First after Epiphany_

Nana and Grandpa came for tea. I showed Nana my room, and she gave me €0.50 for keeping it neat and tidy. I showed her Stationery Village, and she said she had never seen anything like it before. She said it was just like a display in a shop, and asked if I had ever considered getting a job as a window dresser when I am grown up? I informed her I am fully committed to becoming the greatest jazz musician in history.

**Monday January 12th**

At tea, Mum and Dad said we were having a visitor to tea tomorrow. It's this kid that is transferring to our school this term, and when I said lots of kids transfer to our school and they don't all come to tea, Mum said this one is a bit of a special case. I thought that meant he might be like the Elephant Man, but it just means he's coming from India, and he's never been to school before.

Dad is the only teacher with a kid at our school, so Mum asked if I could take him under my wing, as he's sure to find everything a bit strange. Just my luck to get stuck with the class freak! He probably doesn't even speak English. He's lucky one of my New Year's Resolutions is to help the helpless.

I probably didn't look exactly thrilled by this news, so Dad said, in his best stern teacher voice, "Howard, I hope you make an effort to welcome this boy to our home, our school, and our country. His life has been pulled upside-down, and he will be in need of both friendship and guidance".

Bloody hell, talk about melodramatic! At least this kid won't be in any of my classes. They'll put him in the Dumbo Class if he's half as backward as Mum and Dad make out.

**Tuesday January 13th**  
_First Quarter._

Dad went to pick the kid up while I helped Mum with the tea. She went all out – home made sausage rolls, cream cakes, a big chocolate layer cake. It took Dad so long to return that Mum said she'd better put the sausage rolls back in the oven to keep warm.

Eventually the front door opened, and Dad came in with a small, skinny boy, saying his name was Vince Noir. That sounds French, so why was he in India? I was expecting him to have brown skin like Indian people, or at least a tan like Leroy, but his skin is dead white, and he has blond hair that looks like fairy floss. It sticks up rather than falls down. I've never seen anyone who looks like him before, but not in an Elephant Man sort of way.

Someone must have bought him some clothes, because he had quite a posh coat on, but when he took it off he only had a blue nylon tracksuit underneath. He speaks English. He said "Hello", and "Thank you Mrs Moon", and stuff. He made a face drinking tea, so Mum made him tea like I had when I was about five and learning to drink it – weak and milky, with a lot of sugar.

Vince said he grew up in a jungle in India with his foster-father, Bryan, and doesn't know what happened to his parents. Then last summer, some missionaries came around, and told Bryan they would take Vince back to England, and welcome him into their family, and give him all the opportunities other kids have. Only when they got to England, they dumped Vince in an orphanage in East London, and buggered off on another mission.

They must have treated Vince badly there, because he said he ran away and lived on the streets. He lived at a boxing gym a lot of the time, he said it was warm but smelly. Eventually a social worker found him sleeping under a bridge with a bunch of other people, all lumped together against the cold. And the social worker tried to find him a foster home, but as it was Christmas and everything, all she could get him was a place in Leeds, with a really old lady named Mrs Pelham.

Dad had a look on his face like he wanted to punch someone and didn't know where to start, and Mum got the same expression she gets when there's a story on the news about a kitten that some yobs have been cruel to. I don't know what I looked like. I mean, it was a sad story, but Vince was so cheerful about everything that I kept thinking how tough he must be. It was sort of a cool story too.

Vince looked at the food in a weird way, like he didn't know what it was, or whether he was allowed to eat it. So I picked up a bit of sausage roll and held it out to him, like he was a stray dog, and he ate a bit from my hand. And then I got him to eat some cake, and he was licking cream and icing off my fingers like he'd never eaten food before. I felt like a scientist who was training a feral child to grow into a normal person, and had had a major breakthrough. When I grow up, maybe I can help freak kids learn to do normal stuff, like eat and drink.

Vince said, "Amazing tea, Mrs Moon", and Mum said, "Why don't you take Vince up to your room, Howard?". So we started walking upstairs, and he actually held onto my hand! Not like he was scared or anything, as if he just felt like holding my hand. I pretended that I was helping him up the stairs, and kept saying things like, "Look out for this step here, it's a bit wonky", but Mum and Dad didn't seem fooled.

When we got to my room, the dog had been asleep on my bed, but it jumped up when it saw Vince and went mental. The dog never looks that happy seeing us. It was actually smiling. Vince kept hugging it and saying good boy. He talked to the dog, and I swear it looked like it understood every word. This is a dog that has so far failed to understand sit and stay. Vince's hair is a bit like the dog's, all fluffy, and a jumble of blond and brown hair mixed together.

I put some Coltrane on, but Vince said it made him feel sick, so I put on Led Zepp and he was okay with that. Vince started messing about with Stationery Village, and I told him to leave it alone. I'd just built Paper Clip Castle, and I didn't want him getting it out of order. Vince said I had a lot of books, and I was just going to tell him that I'd recently become an intellectual jazz poet when he grabbed my Kevin Keegan scrapbook from when I was about seven.

I didn't think he'd know who that was, but he said, "Keegan – Southampton, yeah?", and I said, "Yeah, transferred from Germany last year. He was huge at Liverpool when I was a little kid". It turned out Vince knew a fair amount about football, so we talked about that for a while, and then Vince told me these incredible stories about living in the jungle. They sounded like lies, but the way Vince told them, you somehow knew they were true.

When Dad came up to take Vince home, he found us sitting on the bed, still talking, and he smiled, and later on said, "Well done Howard, for keeping Vince entertained".

**Wednesday January 14th**

I walked Vince to school for his first day. He was late getting here, so we had to practically run all the way. When we got to school, I introduced Vince to Leroy, who immediately said, "Wow, India. That's cool". Pretty soon Vince was telling stories about his jungle childhood to about a million kids. Everyone ignored me, and after a while I just went to morning assembly without anyone noticing I'd even left. Mum and Dad were completely wrong about Vince needing my friendship and guidance. He's absolutely fine without me.

None of the teachers at school have noticed I am an intellectual now, including my own father. Vince is in my Geography class, and Dad made us sit together. Vince gave me a huge smile like he was really happy we were sitting together, but he looks happy all the time anyway. He just about burst with excitement because we saw an old Coke can on the pavement on the way to school, and we kicked it to each other a few times. Yep, that's a big thrill in Vince Noir world. Us intellectuals aren't so easily impressed.

Vince has huge eyes, very bright blue, with long eyelashes that he sort of looks at me from under, and then he looks away again while chewing his thumb. If Vince was a girl, he would be pretty, but too skinny.

**Thursday January 15th**

We played football in Games yesterday, and Vince is really good. He got a superb kick into goal, and everyone cheered. His shorts are a bit baggy, so when he kicked, you could see all the way up to the top of his legs. His legs are still a bit brown from India, and he might be skinny, but he has muscular thighs, much whiter on the inside than the rest. I felt a bit weird for looking at Vince's legs.

I've done my jazz exercises, and even though it's still early, I think I'll just go to bed and think about ... things.

**Friday January 16th**

I got a lift to school with Dad this morning, and he said we could pick Vince up on the way. Vince wasn't quite ready, and Dad muttered, "Is that boy ever on time?". Dad made me stay in the car on the other side of the road, and he went in and fetched Vince. Vince didn't have shoes on, but he put them on in the car.

It was Geography today, so I sat next to Vince for an hour. Vince has all his pens and pencils in a gold tin covered in stickers, but he doesn't have the right kind of blue pencil for drawing in the sea on maps, so I let him use mine. Maybe he'll learn there are benefits to taking stationery seriously.

I pointed out to Vince he has hair just like our dog's. He said, "What breed of dog do you call that, anyway?". I told him it is a mongrel.

**Saturday January 17th**

Vince came round this morning, and we were watching the cartoons on TV when Leroy came round and asked if we wanted to go to the pictures, so we said yeah alright. We took the bus into town, I paid for Vince as I don't think he gets any pocket money. I've still got Christmas money left over. When we got to the Odeon, I wanted to see _The Jazz Singer_ , but Vince looked so horrified we saw _Flash Gordon_ instead. Leroy and I went halves buying Vince's ticket.

I bought Vince some sweets, he asked for Raspberry Bootlaces, so we shared them between us three, and Vince shared my drink. The film was quite good, and some parts of it were quite sexy. Princess Aura had quite a revealing costume, for example, but I don't like seeing girls being whipped. They are too soft and delicate. Vince liked the music.

Vince held my hand again while we were watching the film. He grabbed it during an exciting part, and then he just kept holding it. Maybe in India it's normal for boys to hold hands, but I'm going to have to tell him it's not on in England.

When we got back to my house, we started messing around acting out the film. Vince wanted to be Princess Aura being whipped, so he took off his tracksuit top and lifted his tee shirt and lay down on the bed, and then Leroy and I took turns whipping him. We didn't have actual whips, so we just used the sash off my dressing gown. Vince said I was the best at whipping because I'm stronger than Leroy. After a while I felt a bit weird, so I said we should probably stop in case Mum came in.

**Sunday January 18th**  
_Second after Epiphany. Oxford Hilary Term Starts._

We went to Wakefield to see Nana and Grandpa this afternoon. Nana made parkin for tea, and I asked for two pieces to give to Vince. Mum and Dad explained about Vince, and Mum said, "He and Howard are terrific friends". Grandpa said it was nice to hear I was making more friends, as he had always thought I was too shy. Then Grandpa asked if I had a girlfriend yet, and Mum quickly said, "Oh, there's plenty of time for that". I wish they wouldn't talk about me while I am in the room with them, I can still hear!

Vince came over this evening, and started looking through my books. I thought we might be able to have an intellectual discussion about literature, but he grabbed one of my old _Rupert Bear_ annuals instead. Vince said he was cold and got into bed, so I got into bed too. I ended up reading the story of Rupert and the Winkybickies to Vince.

Dad came in and said it was time for Vince to go home. He didn't say anything about us being in bed together. We were only reading, anyway. I gave Vince his parkin to take home with him.

**Monday January 19th**

I have joined a group at school called the Good Samaritans. We go out into the community helping and stuff like that. We miss Maths on Monday afternoons.

Today we had a talk on the sort of things we will be doing. I have been put in the old age pensioner's group. Leroy ticked the box that said he liked working with children and young people, so he is going to be tutoring Vince every week. He seemed dead happy about it.

I sat with Vince for school dinner, and asked him if he wanted to be in the Good Samaritans and help people, but he said he already has to take care of Mrs Pelham a fair bit. I said she's meant to be taking care of you, but he said if they find out Mrs Pelham is too old, they will put Vince in an orphanage again, or move him to another city. I tried to say something encouraging, but I started choking on a piece of gristle. Just my luck!

Mum has been visiting the library as well, but not for anything intellectual. She is reading a book called _What Colour is Your Parachute?_. I hope she isn't intending to take up skydiving at her age.

**Tuesday January 20th**  
_Full Moon_

My mother is looking for a job! If she is at work all day, who is going to take care of the house? And who is going to feed me and Dad? We both have to go to school, we can't be expected to make our own meals as well.

I rang my grandparents to tell them, and got Nana on the phone. Nana said, "Well, she's not really the domestic type, is she love? She doesn't even make her own lard". Nana is just glad that now she will be the best cook of everything forever. She said if I get too neglected, she and Grandpa will help out, so to stop worrying.

The Samaritans met today during break. The old people were shared out. I got an old blind man named Lester Corncrake. He is eighty-nine, so I don't suppose I'll have him for long. I'm going round to see him tomorrow.

**Wednesday January 21st**

Mr and Mrs Lucas who live in the house opposite are getting divorced. They are the first down our road. Mum and Dad don't seem very surprised. Dad says Mr Lucas is a slimy little git who has been getting his end away, and Mum says Mrs Lucas prefers women to men (note: all my mother's friends are women too, so what is her point?). My parents seem to know a surprising amount about the people living opposite. I hope they are not turning into gossips.

Dad cooked tea tonight, he made chicken curry and rice. It wasn't bad, actually. Dad said that we will all have to chip in when Mum gets a job. That sounds ominous.

I went to see old Mr Corncrake after tea. Dad dropped me off on his way to play squash. Mr Corncrake's house is hard to see from the road. It has got a massive overgrown privet hedge all round. When I knocked on the door, I heard a fierce-sounding dog barking and growling and jumping up at the letterbox, so I ran off. I hope I got the wrong number.

I saw Leroy on the way home. He said tutoring Vince is no joke, he is practically illiterate. I didn't tell Leroy that Vince needed a lot of help to read _Rupert Bear_ , and that's mostly pictures.

**Thursday January 22nd**

Vince said he will come after Leroy like a Cockney bitch if he keeps telling people how thick he is. Leroy said that thanks to the breakdown of language and society, soon nobody will be able to read and write, so Vince is already ahead of the game. Vince looked quite pleased, but I do not think that is the right thing for a tutor to tell their student.

I suggested to Dad that Leroy isn't the right tutor for Vince, but he said, "Leroy is doing a perfectly satisfactory job, and Vince needs all the friends and allies he can get. Please don't spoil things for Vince because you're jealous". Huh, yeah. As if I'd be jealous of Leroy, or want Vince all to myself.

Leroy has asked me to go to a disco at the youth club tonight, it is being held to raise funds for a new pack of ping-pong balls. I said I wasn't sure I wanted to go, but then he said Vince was coming, so I said, oh all right then.

My mother has an interview for a job. It feels like the beginning of the end.

**Friday January 23rd**

That is the last time I go to a disco. The disco was meant to start at 8 pm, so I arrived at what I thought was a polite 7.45 pm. There was nobody else there except Bob Fossil, the youth leader. He is a weird little American man who always wears a powder blue safari suit that doesn't quite fit. He feels up his own nipples when he thinks nobody is watching, but they always are. Watching, I mean.

I helped Bob Fossil set things up for the disco. He passed comments on my physical appearance that made me feel uncomfortable, such as, "Oh, you've grown a lot, Howard. You're getting to be a big boy, aren't you?". And when I fell off the stepladder while putting up streamers, he offered to massage my buttocks until the pain went away. I refused this offer, mostly because the pain was actually in my ankle. I twisted it a bit when I came off the stepladder.

Once people began arriving, it was obvious that everyone there was a punk, apart from me and Bob Fossil. All the music was punk music. Vince didn't get there until after 9 pm, and he arrived with Leroy. Leroy must have loaned Vince some of his clothes, because Vince was dressed as a punk, too. I couldn't help staring, because he looked really different. Probably because I'm used to seeing him in his school uniform or his tracksuit.

He had tight black jeans and a white bondage tee-shirt written all over in smeared red writing. His tee shirt didn't come all the way down, so you could see a strip of Vince's lower stomach. It's covered in surprisingly dark hair for someone who is blond. Vince was wearing a black leather jacket, black leather boots, and a black leather studded wristband. He'd done something to his hair, so it was still sticking up, but looked as if it was meant to be like that, and it had blue streaks in it.

Vince had a lot of black makeup around his eyes. It makes his eyes look even more blue. He was wearing his school tie all loose, and I pointed out that it is against school rules to wear your school tie except with a regulation school uniform, but Vince told me to get stuffed.

Leroy and Vince danced with each other, and then they danced with a couple of punk girls, and then with some punk boys, and back to dancing together again. I didn't dance. I just watched. But Bob Fossil said, "Come on Howard, get up and dance with the other kids", in a whiny voice. Just to get rid of him, I started dancing by myself, but Bob Fossil still hung around, saying things like, "Oh yeah, that is a such a sexy dance. Dance, monkey boy, dance!".

Vince and Leroy were laughing at me, and Vince called out, "Yeah, you are a sexy dancer, Howard!". I told him to shut up and not to make fun of me. Vince said, "I wasn't ...", but I walked away. I couldn't take him lying to me on top of everything else.

Leroy and Vince showed off all night while I ignored them, and then they both stuck safety pins through their ears so they would have matching earrings. I had to go home and get Dad so he could drive them to hospital, where they ended up in matching beds due to a bit of blood poisoning. Dad gave them both a bollocking for being so stupid, but said he would explain it to Leroy's parents and Mrs Pelham. I waited for him to say something about Vince's misuse of a school tie, but he never did. Typical! If it was me, I would have been told to remove the tie immediately. Leroy and Vince weren't in school today.

The people at _Critic's Forum_ haven't written back to me yet, not even Hermione Lee. Maybe she is in a bad mood. Intellectuals like her and me often have bad moods. Ordinary people don't understand and say we are sulking, but we're not.

I must go to sleep now, even though I have had a headache all day thanks to that stupid punk disco, but I'm not complaining. I've got to go and see Lester Corncrake tomorrow at his house. It was the right number, WORSE LUCK!!!!!!!

**Saturday January 24th**

Today was terrible. Mum got a job at an insurance office in the city and starts on Monday. She will be getting lifts with Mr Lucas from across the road. Dad didn't like that, so Mum said could she have the car, then? But Dad said he needs the car to carry home essays and assignments, classroom equipment, and other papers.

Lester Corncrake has a huge Alsatian dog named Sabre. Sabre was locked in the kitchen while I was cutting the massive hedge, but he didn't stop growling once. I asked Mr Corncrake if he was sure that Sabre was a proper seeing eye dog, and he said, "Why, what did they give me?". He seemed to think that was very funny.

But even worse than that, I've had a huge row with Vince and Leroy. They came round this evening, and complained about me being a wet blanket at the punk disco, and getting Dad involved after they put safety pins through their ears. I pointed out they could have both died, and Leroy said, "Exactly, that would have been so punk. There's no street cred involved in being on antibiotics". Vince said, "Yeah, we wanted to be crawling in filthy diseases, just like Sid Vicious".

I lost my temper, and asked Vince why he was a punk anyway. He said because he didn't fit into society and was filled with a bounding inner rage. I asked him to name one thing he's angry about. He thought for a moment, and said, "Government". I asked him to name the political party currently in power in the UK, and he couldn't do it. I asked him who the prime minister is, and he didn't know.

I asked what exactly about government got him angry, and he said, "Not that kind of government. You know, poverty and stuff". I asked what he'd like the government to do about poverty, and Vince said, "Get stuffed, you tosser. You think you're cleverer than us, but you're not. You're just a stuck-up arsehole. Come on Leroy, let's get out of here".

I said the pair of them could fuck off, and next time they got blood poisoning being prats, they could sort themselves out. Then I yelled after them they were a pair of wankers. Once they left, I thought of about a hundred really clever and cutting things I could have said to them, but it was too late then. The truth is, I don't really wish I said clever and cuttings things. I wish I'd stopped the row ever happening in the first place.

**Sunday January 25th**  
_Burns Night (Scotland). Third after Epiphany_

_10 am:_ I am ill with worry, too weak to write much. My parents didn't notice I haven't eaten any breakfast. They have left for Wakefield to see Nana and Grandpa. I said I wasn't feeling well enough to accompany them.

 _2 pm:_ Had two junior aspirins at midday and rallied a little. Perhaps when I am famous and my diary is discovered, people will understand the torment of being a thirteen-and-two-thirds undiscovered intellectual.

 _6 pm:_ I really wish I hadn't said those things to Vince. I hope he realises that whatever may have occurred, he is still free to avail himself of my blue pencil in Geography class.

 _8 pm:_ I thought I was lonely and isolated before as an intellectual jazz poet. Now I know it is even worse being a friendless intellectual jazz poet.

 _10 pm:_ How did everything go so wrong?

 _Midnight:_ Finally felt able to eat. Ate a crab paste sandwich and a satsuma. Feel a little better. I blame punk for everything.

**Monday January 26th**

I had to leave my sick bed to visit Lester Corncrake before school. It took me ages to get there, what with feeling weak and needing to rest every now and again, but with the help of an old lady who was passing, I managed to make it to the front door. Sabre was locked in the bathroom: he was growling, and sounded as if he was ripping up towels or something.

Lester Corncrake said, "Here's a dime, kid. Go down to the newsstand, and get me a copy of the _Washington Post_ , in Braille". Sabre usually fetches the newspaper, but he is being kept indoors as a punishment for chewing the sink.

The man at the newsagent's said they don't sell the _Washington Post_ , or any publications in Braille, and they don't accept American coins as payment. I bought Lester a _Daily Telegraph_ with my own money, and told him I would read him selected articles from it when I have some free time. I will keep the American ten cent piece, it looks interesting.

I was late for school, so I had to go to the school secretary's office and have my name put in the late book. That's the reward I get for being a Good Samaritan! I didn't miss Maths either!

Saw Vince and Leroy having their school dinners together, but chose to ignore them and sat by myself.

When I got home, I just wanted to be left alone so I could forget about what a horrible few days it has been. Mum said, "You could stop sulking and ask me how my first day at work went, Howard. You know, you never congratulated me, or wished me luck this morning". Typical. It's all about _their_ lives with my parents!

 _Midnight._ I miss you, Vince. Even though we are not speaking, I will wish you goodnight in the pages of my diary, at least.

**Tuesday January 27th**

Art was dead good today. I painted a lonely boy standing on a bridge. He had just lost his two best friends. The two friends were struggling in the torrential river below. The boy sadly watched his two former friends drown. The boy on the bridge looked a bit like me. The two drowning friends looked a bit like Leroy and Vince.

Ms Fossington-Gore said the picture "had depth". So did the river. Ha! Ha! Ha!

**Wednesday January 28th**  
_Last Quarter_

I woke up with a bit of a cold, so I asked Mum for a note to excuse me from Games. She said she wasn't going to namby-pamby me a day longer! I would love to know when this namby-pambying took place. Anyway, she is sorry now. We had rugger, and my PE kit is so full of mud it has blocked the washing machine.

Vince didn't speak to me in Geography. I left my blue pencil for him on the desk, but he didn't touch it. We didn't do any maps with sea anyway.

**Thursday January 29th**

Took the dog for an especially long walk while I thought about things. The dog complained that its feet hurt towards the end, so I carried it the last bit.

**Friday January 30th**

That old git Lester Corncrake phoned the school to complain that I left the hedge-clippers out in the rain! He claims they have gone all rusty, and wants compensation.

I told Mr Bainbridge, the headmaster, that they were already rusty, but I could tell he didn't believe me. He gave me a lecture on how hard it is for old people to make ends meet. He has ordered me to go to Lester Corncrake's, and clean and sharpen the hedge-clippers.

I wanted to tell the headmaster all about Lester Corncrake and his dangerous dog, but there is something about Mr Bainbridge that makes my mind goes blank. I think it's the way his cheeks go bright red and sort of wobble when he's in a temper.

I went to Lester Corncrake's, but he didn't answer the door. Perhaps he is dead.

Vince is still not speaking to me.

**Saturday January 31st**

It is nearly February, and I have nobody to send a Valentine's Day card to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Jazz Record Requests" on BBC Radio Three was on at 5 pm, hosted by Peter Clayton. It was followed by "Critic's Forum" at 5.45 pm, discussing new and classic books, theatre, television programmes, and current exhibitions.
> 
> The Doors' song that Howard incorporates into his poem is "The WASP" (1968). I'm not sure why he put a classic rock song into a poem about jazz, but he does seem to like both genres, and The Doors are a bit jazzy. 
> 
> Howard reads "The True History of the Elephant Man: The Definitive Account of the Tragic and Extraordinary Life of Joseph Carey Merrick" by Michael Howell and Peter Ford (1980). The biography was praised by critics for its solid research and lack of sensationalism. 
> 
> The author of "Poetry in the Making" (1967) was Ted Hughes, the distinguished British poet, and later Poet Laureate. He was born in the village of Mytholmroyd in the West Riding of Yorkshire, not far from Halifax. The book is one written for teachers, but still useful for self-starting poets. 
> 
> In times past, window dressing was considered a typically "gay" career choice, like hairdressing or working in theatre. Howard's Nana seems to have taken one look at Stationery Village, and thought, "Wow, this kid seems super gay".
> 
> Joseph Kevin Keegan (b 1951), a football player born in South Yorkshire. He started playing in the 1960s, and during the 1970s and 1980s, became the first superstar modern player to attract the media spotlight. He was notable for his very curly hair, and often named in "worst hairstyle" lists. 
> 
> The Odeon on The Headrow in central Leeds was the last surviving Art Deco picture palace in the city, closing down in 2001. It's now apartments and retail space. 
> 
> "The Jazz Singer" and "Flash Gordon" both came out toward the end of 1980, so are still on in the cinemas in January 1981. "Flash Gordon" was a huge box office success, and a favourite film in the UK due to its campy appeal. The soundtrack is by Queen. It is an overtly sexual film for something with an AA rating (the equivalent of PG), and the Princess Aura whipping scene must have been memorable for a lot of teenagers. Interestingly, Howard doesn't like the idea of girls being whipped, but never mentions the all-male whip-fight which is a few scenes later. He doesn't seem to mind Vince being (playfully) whipped while pretending to be a girl! 
> 
> The "Rupert Bear" annual that Howard reads from is the 1977 one.
> 
> Howard's mother reads, "What Colour is Your Parachute?" by Richard Nelson Bolles (1970). It is one of the most highly-regarded career advice handbooks of all time.
> 
> Hermione Lee (b 1948), now Dame Hermione Lee. Distinguished author, critic, and academic. At this time, she taught English at the University of York. She was one of the guests on "Critic's Forum".


	2. February

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> RECAP: Howard Moon is a far from ordinary schoolboy in Leeds, trying to become the world's greatest slap-bass guitarist, while discovering he is an intellectual jazz poet and learning his best friend Leroy has become a punk. Just before school goes back, he meets an intriguing boy named Vince Noir with a tragic past who befriends he and Leroy. Unfortunately, Leroy's punk ways cause a rift between Howard and his friends, and he worries that volunteering to help an old blind man named Lester Corncrake was a mistake. And much to his consternation, Howard's mother has decided to get a job! Does she not understand her job is to do the cooking and cleaning? 
> 
> THIS CHAPTER: Howard pines for Vince, gets to know Lester, tries to cope with having a (shock horror) working mother who is trying to raise her consciousness, receives an unexpected acknowledgement of his intellectual efforts, and unluckily attracts the attentions of the school bully.

**Sunday February 1st**   
_Fourth After Epiphany_

Nana and Grandpa came for dinner. They asked Mum how her new job is going. She said something about "needing a period of adjustment", and Nana said, "If it's so difficult, petal, why not just give it up? I'm sure your family need you more than the insurance business does". Mum's lips went into a thin line, but all she said was, "Cup of tea, Edna?".

Went to Lester Corncrake's this afternoon, but thank God he has gone to Blackpool with the Evergreens. Sabre looked out of the living room window and growled at me. I gave him the V-sign. I hope he doesn't remember.

**Monday February 2nd**   
_Candlemas (Scottish Quarter Day)_

Mrs Lucas from across the road came early this morning to get some of her stuff. She was in a van with "Women's Refuge" painted on the side.

I asked my mother if she was coming home early from work today, I'm fed up with waiting for my tea. She didn't. Come home early, that is.

Leroy got thrown out of school dinner today for swearing at the toad-in-the-hole. He said it was "all bloody hole and no toad". I think Mrs Leech was quite right to throw him out, after all, first years were present! We third years must set an example. Vince left with Leroy, even though he didn't do anything wrong, otherwise I would have sat with him. I think it was selfish of Leroy to make Vince miss school dinner. He needs food or he will waste away.

It was Good Samaritans today, so I was forced to go round to Lester Corncrake's. I have missed the Algebra test. Ha! Ha! Ha! Lester gave me a broken stick of Blackpool rock, and said he was sorry he rang the school to complain. He said he was lonely and wanted to hear a human voice. If I was the loneliest person in the person I wouldn't phone up our school. I would call the speaking clock, that talks to you every ten seconds.

**Tuesday February 3rd**

My mother hasn't done any proper housework for days now. She says she is too tired after work.

The big end has gone on the car, so my father can no longer drive to work. I now have the humiliation of having to walk to school with my dad every day. And all that stuff he said he needed the car for? Guess who ends up carrying most of it. Mum says this is proof my dad doesn't actually need the car, and she could have been driving to work all this time. Well, for a week anyway, before the big end went.

I ran into Mum at the library today, and we ended up walking home together. Yes, it's not enough I have no friends, now I walk around with my parents. I got out _The Man with the Golden Gun_ , and asked Mrs Gideon about borrowing Braille materials. Now she knows I am not only an intellectual, but working in the community to help the less sighted. She suggested I also look at the talking books on record.

My mother got out _Superwoman_ by Shirley Conran and _The Female Eunuch_ by Germaine Greer. She said they are books that can change your life. I only glanced into _The Female Eunuch_ , but it is full of dirty words that I don't think women should say. I don't think Germaine Greer can be very ladylike.

Mum asked me to run upstairs and get her reading glasses off the bedside table for her. Except when I got there, I found she had got another book out of the library that was on the bedside table called _The Joy of Sex_. I looked in it and it has got pictures! I can't believe the library lets my mother read dirty books! What will Mrs Gideon think of us? And what will my father think? He can't possibly want to do what was in the picture I saw. 

I found it very difficult to concentrate on my own reading after that, but at least I have finished all the James Bond novels now. All I really learned from the book is that homosexuals can't whistle, so now I know for sure I'm not gay. I whistled for the dog a few times, and whistled tunes until Mum told me to shut up or go to my room. You'd think she'd be glad to have a normal son.

**Wednesday February 4th**   
_New Moon_

I had my first wet dream last night! I don't know which book gave it to me, but it did change my life. I can't say what the dream was about, except I'm not really sure about the whistling thing any more.

**Thursday February 5th**

My mother is spending a lot of money on clothes, shoes, and makeup to wear to work, and she is getting her hair done and her ears pierced tomorrow. She hasn't even been paid yet, and she has already spent her pay cheque. I hope she is not turning into a spendthrift.

**Friday February 6th**   
_The Queen's Accession, 1952_

It is lousy having a working mother. She rushes in with big bags of shopping, cooks the tea, then rushes around the house saying she doesn't have any time for anything, then flops in a chair and reads. But she is still not doing any tidying up.

**Saturday February 7th**

I spent all afternoon listening to Weather Report. Both Mum and Dad said they were too tired to cook tea, so they sent me to out to get Chinese. They didn't give me enough money, so I had to cover the cost of the fried rice myself. It cost €0.32. The prawn crackers and sachets of soy sauce were free.

I sneaked another look at _The Joy of Sex_ until I felt weird and went to bed.

**Sunday February 8th**   
_Fifth after Epiphany_

Dad came into my room this morning for a chat. He looked at my Kevin Keegan scrapbook, and we talked about football for a while. Then he fixed the handle on my wardrobe with his Swiss army knife. Then he asked me about school, even though we see each other there every day.

Finally he said he knew things were a bit difficult since Mum started work, and that we all needed time to adjust. He asked me if I wanted to say anything, so I told him I'd paid for part of the takeaway last night. He gave me €1, so I made a profit of €0.68.

**Monday February 9th**

Mum caught the bus to work today; she doesn't want to get a lift with Mr Lucas any more, but wouldn't say why not. She wears long dangly earrings now that her ears are pierced. I hope nobody thinks she is a scarlet woman. Dad and I said goodbye to her, then we walked to school together.

Lester Corncrake was OK today. He told me he came to Britain in the 1950s, "just a little too early for England to be swinging, ya know?". He asked someone if he had the right train for Trafalgar Square, and they said yes, but really the train went to Leeds. That was a horrible trick to play on a blind person.

When Lester got to Leeds he lived in the waiting room for a while because he didn't know where else to go. He said railway waiting rooms were a lot nicer and more comfortable then than they are now. Eventually they got sick of Lester sitting in the waiting room all day, so they gave him a job working the signal box.

I asked how a blind man could work a signal box, because he couldn't see the train coming. He said, "From the vibrations. Everything is vibrations, Howard. Like music".

He handed me a spanner, and told me to throw the spanner to him, and he would catch it, because he could feel the vibrations. It took a few goes, but he did eventually catch it. I apologised for hitting him in the face with a spanner, but he said it was all part of life's rich tapestry.

**Tuesday February 10th**

Dad is in Matlock, taking some fourth years on a Geography field trip to examine the geology of the Derbyshire Dales, and write essays on the mining industries there. He said it's something for me to look forward to next year. Gee Dad, I can hardly wait.

We've got a supply teacher called Miss Elf. She's nowhere near as good as Dad, and we're not learning anything.

**Wednesday February 11th**   
_First Quarter_

Dad rang to say "Spotty" Milton fell into the Derwent, so he's not coming home today after all, as he has to take “Spotty” to hospital, and he'll be there overnight. Stuck with a supply teacher for another day!

**Thursday February 12th**   
_Abraham Lincoln's Birthday, USA_

I found my mother bleaching her hair in the bathroom this evening. This has come as a shock to me. For thirteen-and-two-thirds years, I thought I had a mother with blonde hair, now I discover it is really light brown. My mother asked me not to tell my father when he gets back from Matlock.

I wonder if Dad knows that Mum wears padded bras? She never hangs them on the line to dry, but I have found them stuffed down the back of the airing cupboard. I don't know if my parents' marriage can survive this level of deceit.

**Friday February 13th**

It was an unlucky day for me alright!

Dad, now back from Matlock and in charge again, has split me and Vince up in Geography. Even worse, he has put me next to Barry Kent, who is a complete nightmare. He spends all his time copying my work and popping bubblegum near my ears so they hurt from the pop.

I asked Dad to please reconsider his decision on seating arrangements in class, but he said Vince asked to be moved. He said maybe I can be a good influence on Barry Kent, and change his ways. Yeah Dad, and maybe I'll also win a Nobel Peace Prize while I'm at it!

I can't believe Vince asked to be moved. I always thought that if we kept sitting together in class, he would eventually start talking to me again. Maybe I should have started talking to him.

The blue streaks in Vince's hair from the disco have gone now. He has started putting stuff in his hair every day to stop it looking like fairy floss. I never minded the fairy floss. He was wearing Leroy's football scarf today. I have a multitude of scarves that he could have borrowed, if he was cold.

I sent Vince a Valentine's Day card. I hope it isn't weird for a boy to send another boy a Valentine's Day card. Girls send each other cards all the time, just as friends, so I thought maybe it would be okay.

**Saturday February 14th**   
_Saint Valentine's Day_

I only got one Valentine's Day card. It was in Mum's handwriting, so it doesn't count. My mother got my father a very romantic card covered in love hearts, but the one she got from Dad was small, with a bunch of purple flowers on it. It just said, _Pauline, there is only one woman for me, and I will never stop trying new ways to make our love grow_. He didn't even sign it, but Mum went dead soppy over it. I hope the card doesn't mean they've been trying stuff from _The Joy of Sex_.

I wrote a poem inside Vince's Valentine's Day card:

_Vince!_   
_You're a prince._   
_I beg of thee_   
_Please notice me._

I wrote it left-handed so he wouldn't know it was from me.

**Sunday February 15th**   
_Third before Lent_

We went to Wakefield to see Nana and Grandpa. They don't approve of Saint Valentine's Day, because they never bothered about it, and they don't see the point in bothering now. Mum and Dad were in a good mood and just sat there smiling likes dopes.

Nana made roast chicken with proper gravy, and individual Yorkshire puddings. For afters we had rhubarb and custard made with real custard.

My grandparents have started going to a new church, a Spiritualist one, even though they have always been plain Church of England. There is someone who contacts the dead at every church service, and they think they got a message from Uncle Cedric, who died four years ago. They would like us to attend church with them some time, and Nana said she thought I had an aura around me. I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing.

My parents said, "We'll see", in just the same way as when I ask to do something. Nana looked sad, and said rhubarb was Cedric's favourite. In the afternoon we all went for a walk together to settle our dinners.

Lay awake for ages tonight, thinking about God, Life, Death, and Vince.

**Monday February 16th**   
_George Washington's Birthday Observance, USA_

A letter from the BBC!!!!! A white oblong envelope with BBC in fat red letters. My name and address on the front! Could it be that they wanted my poetry? Alas, no. But a letter from Terry Wogan, here is what he wrote:

_Dear Howard Moon,_

_Thank you for the poem which you sent to the BBC, and which somehow landed on my desk. I read it with interest, and taking into account your tender years, I must confess that it does show some promise. However, it is not of sufficient quality to be included in any of the BBC's current poetry programs. Have you thought of offering it to your school magazine? (If your school has one)._

_If, in future, you wish to submit your work to the BBC, might I suggest you get it typed out, and retain, also, a copy for yourself? Since you wish to follow a literary career, I suggest you need to develop a thick skin in order to accept the future rejections you may receive with good grace, and the minimum of personal pain. I fear this is only the first of many._

_With my best wishes to you for your future efforts – and above all, good luck!_

_Yours sincerely,_

_Terry Wogan_

My mother and father were really impressed, and Dad now wonders if he judged my poem too hastily. I kept getting it out and reading it at school. I hoped one of the teachers would ask to read it, but none of them did.

I read it to Lester Corncrake after I finished doing his washing up for him. He said everyone at the BBC is a drug addict. He knows this because when he first moved to London, he was having relations with a tea lady from Broadcasting House so he is an expert on the BBC. "And Howard, when I say a tea lady, I mean that lady was selling tea all over the place!". Obviously tea ladies sell tea. I don't know what the mad old git is going on about.

Vince got seventeen Valentine's Day cards. Leroy got seven. Even Barry Kent that everyone hates got three! I just smiled when anyone asked me how many I got. Anyway, I bet I am the only person in the school to get a letter from the BBC.

**Tuesday February 17th**

Barry Kent said he would do me over. He said he'd been watching me in Geography class, and all I do is look at Vince like I'm some sort of poofter. He said unless I give him €0.25 a day, he will tell everyone that I am a poof, starting with my Dad and Mr Bainbridge.

I told him he is wasting his time. Mum puts most of my pocket money straight into a savings account, and I only get €0.15 a day to spend. Barry Kent said he'd have my dinner money then, but Dad pays that by cheque at the start of the school year. Barry Kent punched me in the goolies, saying, "There's more where that came from", before walking off.

I have put my name down for a paper round.

**Wednesday February 18th**   
_Full Moon_

Woke up with a pain my goolies. Told my mother. She wanted to look, but I didn't want her to, so she said I would have to soldier on. She wouldn't give me a note excusing me from Games, so I stumbled around in the mud again. Barry Kent stood on my head in the scrum. Mr Jones said, "Get off Moon, Kent", and Barry Kent said, "Sorry, I mistook him for a poofter". Mr Jones only said, "Enough of that. Hit the showers, Kent". So that's his punishment! Getting out of Games early.

I went to the library to get my mind off Barry Kent's threats, and got out _The Island of Dr Moreau_. I told Mrs Gideon I was actually considering becoming a doctor. It's not really true, but she smiled, so I think she is gaining a favourable impression of me. Mrs Gideon has quite a pretty smile, with nice even white teeth. I wish Mrs Gideon would fall in love with me, and then nobody would listen to Barry Kent when he told people I am a poof.

**Thursday February 19th**   
_Prince Andrew born, 1960_

It's all right for Prince Andrew, he is protected by bodyguards. He doesn't have Barry Kent nicking money off him, and he can look at anyone he likes. Barry Kent's already got €0.50 off me! I wish I knew how to box, I would punch him in the windpipe. I'd come after him like a buzzard.

**Friday February 20th**

Barry Kent told Dad to "get fucked" in Geography today, so he was sent to Mr Bainbridge to be caned. I hope he got fifty lashes.

I am going to make friends with Bollo Thomas. He is the biggest third year, a huge bloke like a gorilla. I bought him a banana at break today, I pretended I felt sick and couldn't eat it myself. He said, "Ta, Harold". That's the first time he has spoken to me. If I play my cards right, and he learns my name, I could join his gang. Then Barry Kent wouldn't dare touch me again.

Mum came back from the library with _Get That Promotion!_ , and _The Second Sex_ by some Frog writer called Simone De Beauvoir. Another sex book! And this time it's not on the bedside table, she's left it out on the coffee table where anyone could read it. What if Nana saw it?

**Saturday February 21st**

Had a dead good dream that Sabre was brutally savaging Barry Kent. Dad and Mr Bainbridge were watching. Vince was there, wearing a tee shirt that didn't cover his stomach. He put his arms around me, and said, "I am not the first or second sex, I am of the third sex". Then I woke up and found I had had my second W.D. I put my pyjamas in the washing machine so Mum didn't find out.

Had a good look at my face in the bathroom mirror today. I have got a few hairs on my top lip. It looks as if I will have to start shaving soon. Either that, or grow a moustache.

Went to the garage with Dad. He expected to get the car back today, but it still isn't ready. All the bits are on the work-bench. Dad looked as if he wanted to cry. I was dead embarrassed. Imagine, a man of forty crying over a car!

We had to walk to Budgens, and could only get the amount of shopping we could carry home. Mum was dead mad that we didn't buy more stuff. I think she was unreasonable, considering we didn't have a car. She said we left behind necessities to buy luxuries, and won't let us go shopping alone again. Dad cheered up a bit after that.

**Sunday February 22nd**   
_Second before Lent_

We didn't go to see Nana and Grandpa today. My parents said they thought we should have a family day, just us three, but I bet it's because they don't want to go to church with my grandparents.

Dad took me fishing on the river near Kirkstall. I showed Dad the right bus to get there. We took the dog with us, and I thought it would be a nuisance on the bus, but it wasn't any more of one than the other passengers. It was very cold on the river.

We didn't catch anything, but Dad said catching fish isn't the important part of fishing; it's about relaxing, and learning patience. Another man and his son were catching all the fish, but Dad said they didn't look relaxed at all. That was true – it's hard to look relaxed when you are getting excited and celebrating.

We got home for dinner, and afterwards the three of us played Monopoly. Dad was banker, Mum kept going to jail. I won, because Mum and Dad weren't concentrating. We had black forest cake for tea – the same cake Mum threw a fit about us buying. Dad ate three pieces. He said fishing gives him an appetite.

Mum still hasn't ironed my school uniform for tomorrow. I hope she remembers.

**Monday February 23rd**

Got a letter from Mr Cherry the newsagent saying I can start a paper round tomorrow. Worse luck!

Lester Corncrake is worried about Sabre, because he is off his food and not trying to bite anybody. I promised I would take Sabre to the PDSA for a check-up tomorrow if his condition doesn't improve.

I am sick of doing Lester Corncrake's washing up. He doesn't have any tea towels, and Sabre has ripped up all the bath towels. How is Lester even washing himself? I think I will see if I can get him a home help.

**Tuesday February 24th**   
_St Matthias_

Got up at six o'clock for my paper round. I have to do it on foot as my bike is too small for me. I have got Oak Street, which has dead old houses on it. Some of them are old and posh, and some of them are just old. They tend to read heavy papers like _The_ _Times_ and _The Guardian_. Just my luck!

Lester said Sabre is better. He tried to bite the milkman this morning.

**Wednesday February 25th**

Bed early tonight because of my paper round. Delivered twenty-five _Punches_ as well as the papers. I wish people wouldn't get magazines delivered as well as their paper. 

**Thursday February 26th**

Delivering papers has given me some new ideas for Stationery Village. I think I will add footpaths to the sides of the road, and give the houses mailboxes.

**Friday February 27th**   
_Last Quarter_

Early this morning I saw Vince walk out the front door of 69 Oak Street. He was wearing jeans and a jumper under his coat, and carrying a bucket, so he couldn't have been on his way to school. I didn't let him see me. I don't want him to know I have to work to pay a blackmailer not to say anything about me staring at Vince in class.

I had a good look at the house Vince lives in, I never really looked at it before. Mum would say that it had seen better days. Those better days would have been around 1850. It's an old red brick house that would have been very posh a hundred years ago. Now it is all tired and raggedy, and has been cut in half, so Vince and Mrs Pelham live on one side, and somebody else on the other.

The lace curtains are dirty and have holes in them, so you can see right into the house quite easily. There are a lot of plants inside, as if they live in a greenhouse, and I saw a big ginger cat curled up on an old armchair covered in a crocheted rug.

I tried to decide whether Vince was happy there. The house looks sad on the outside, but I think once you got inside it would feel a lot nicer.

**Saturday February 28th**

I followed Vince this morning to see where he goes, and ended up in the allotments. I was following him very stealthily – Howard Moon, tracker extraordinaire. I hid behind the wall which goes around the allotments, and peeked over carefully.

Vince did some gardening in Mrs Pelham's allotment, and then he milked a little brown nanny goat before feeding her, so that's what the bucket is for. When he bent over to milk the goat, I could see his bum, and it is quite curvy for someone so skinny. I was so scared of getting caught I could hear my heart thumping like mad, so I left. I almost felt as if everyone could hear my heart.

People complained because their papers were late. Mrs Pelham gets the _Morning Star_ , so Vince is living with a Communist. I gave them a leftover _Beano_. It could be a good way for Vince to practice his reading.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Evergreens: The Evergreen Club is a charity providing social outings for the elderly in the UK.
> 
> V sign: the rude British gesture showing the backs of two fingers.
> 
> toad-in-the-hole: sausages in a Yorkshire pudding batter, usually served with gravy. Leroy saying it's all toad and no hole means there weren't enough sausages in the dish.
> 
> Blackpool rock: a stick of peppermint candy with the name "Blackpool" printed inside it. A traditional seaside treat.
> 
> Howard's mother reads "Superwoman" by Shirley Conran (1975), a household management guide written from a feminist perspective and a Bible to a generation of working mothers; "The Female Eunuch" by Germaine Greer (1970), a classic of second-wave feminism arguing that women have become detached from their own sexual desire; "The Joy of Sex" by Alex Comfort (1972), an illustrated sex manual that is a classic of the sexual revolution, and "The Second Sex" by Simone de Beauvoir (1949), the starting text of second wave feminism. "Get That Promotion!" is a fictional book.
> 
> Howard reads "The Man With the Golden Gun" by Ian Fleming (1965), the last James Bond novel published by the original author, with a homosexual villain unable to whistle due to his sexual orientation; and the science-fiction classic "The Island of Dr Moreau" by H.G. Wells (1896).
> 
> Terence "Terry" Wogan (1938-2016), Irish-born BBC radio host and television presenter, later Sir Terence Wogan and a British citizen. Best known for his breakfast program on Radio Two, "Wake Up with Wogan", which made him the most listened to radio host in Europe. I made Terry Howard's contact at the BBC simply because of his brief mention in the Boosh TV show, and because Julian and Noel liked him.
> 
> tea: Howard is unaware that Lester is using "tea" to mean "marijuana" – it's 1940s beatnik slang that he is too young and too British to recognise.
> 
> Kirkstall is a north-west suburb of Leeds on the River Aire; fishing is permitted in the river. The bus trip would have been around half an hour each way. In the UK, dogs are allowed on buses at the discretion of the company. They must be on a leash and well-behaved, and sometimes you have to buy them a ticket. 
> 
> PDSA: People's Dispensary for Sick Animals, a charity in the UK providing free veterinary treatment for the pets of people on low incomes.
> 
> allotments: urban garden plots owned by town councils in the UK and rented out to people who would otherwise not have room to grow vegetables. 
> 
> Morning Star: a left-wing newspaper owned by a co-operative, originally the "Daily Worker", founded in 1930 by the British Communist Party. The newspaper's policies are drawn from those of The Communist Party. In 1981, it had a circulation of 36 000, with the Soviet government buying thousands of those. 
> 
> The Beano: a long-running children's humorous comic strip magazine.


	3. March

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> RECAP: Intellectual jazz poet and aspiring slap-bass guitarist, Howard Moon, is dealing with a rift between he and his friends, Vince and Leroy, while volunteering to help an old blind man named Lester. Meanwhile, Howard's mother Pauline has raised her consciousness and got a job, much to Howard's dismay, and he finds himself being blackmailed by the school bully. 
> 
> THIS MONTH: While working to pay off his blackmailer, Howard discovers another side to Vince's life that brings him closer to Lester, while his job unexpectedly gives him an outlet for his burgeoning sexuality. Howard's mother learns to express her needs, and as a result, has some news that means a major change to the family, one which also impacts on Howard's friendship woes.

**Sunday March 1st**  
_First before Lent. St David's Day (Wales)_

I took a carrot and fed Mrs Pelham's goat on the allotment before I started my paper round this morning. It made me feel closer to Vince, somehow.

Strained my back carrying all the Sunday supplements. Got my €2.06 for six morning's work. It is slave labour! _And_ I have to give most of it to Barry Kent. Mr Cherry said there was a complaint from 96 Oak Street, who didn't get their kid's _Beano_. He apologised, but he said they were unpleasant about it. I didn't read the papers today. I am fed up with newspapers.

Dad made Sunday dinner – chicken chow mein and bean sprout salad. It wasn't bad. He said he found the recipes in one of the Sunday supplements.

We went to Nana and Grandpa's for tea. I think my parents are trying to avoid going to church by arriving in the afternoon when church is over. Dad gave Nana a big bunch of daffodils which she put in a vase.

**Monday March 2nd**

My mother came into my bedroom early this morning, and said she needed to have a talk with me. I sat up in bed, and put a dead serious expression on my face, in case she had been arrested or had a disease or something.

Mum fiddled with the curtains and started mumbling about "things being complicated" and "needing more out of life". She said that she loved me and Dad, but that she had a duty to "find herself", and that she felt like "an empty bowl" with nothing left to give. Then she said that for some women, marriage and motherhood felt like being in prison. Then she went out.

Marriage and motherhood are nothing like being in prison! Women are allowed out every day to go to the shops and stuff, and Mum goes to work. I think my mother is being a bit melodramatic.

Finished _The Island of Dr Moreau_. It is dead symbolic. Us kids at school are like the mutants, following all the pointless rules that Mr Bainbridge makes up. He is the mad scientist who made us all into mutants. There is only one clear message – the mutants must always rebel, that is the only way they can ever be free. Maybe even I will rebel one day. Mr Bainbridge cannot keep us down forever.

**Tuesday March 3rd**  
_Shrove Tuesday_

I had to remind my mother this morning that it is Pancake Day. She didn't seem a bit grateful and started banging the frying pan around while making us breakfast.

I gave Barry Kent his protection money. I don't see how there can be a God. If there was, surely he wouldn't let yobs like Barry Kent walk about menacing intellectuals like me?

Why are yobs so unpleasant, anyway? Perhaps they have brain damage, or perhaps they simply _like_ violence and fighting? When I go to university I may study the problem. I will have my thesis published, and send a copy to Barry Kent. Perhaps by then he will have learned to read.

**Wednesday March 4th**  
_Ash Wednesday_

Felt a bit guilty that I've only been practising electric guitar for an hour every day. I'm never going to become the greatest jazz guitarist in the world if I keep doing the bare minimum. So tonight I practised for four hours after tea, taking the one guitar solo and playing it again and again.

Mum said we might have to get my room soundproofed. She seemed a bit frazzled. I think it's going to work every day that's so bad for her nerves.

**Thursday March 5th**

My father picked the car up from the garage straight after school. He spent more than an hour cleaning it afterwards. I think he even talked to it.

He told me to jump in, and we'd drive to Wakefield to visit Nana and Grandpa, and give the car a proper test drive. They were having tea, so we joined them in drinking Bovril and eating seed cake. I don't know why old people like seed cake, it tastes yucky.

My grandparents didn't ask where my mother was, or anything about her. Nana said she thought Dad was looking thin and pale, and needed feeding up. Nana showed us Uncle Cedric's photo that they had framed. He was always very handsome, and she said he looked like her brother Alex, who didn't live that long either.

She dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief, and said sometimes she didn't understand the workings of the good Lord. You and me both, Nana. Grandpa patted her on the shoulder, and said, "Now then, lass".

My mother wasn't home when we got back, she has joined some women's group.

Heard my father say "goodnight" to the car. He must be cracking up!

**Friday March 6th**  
_New Moon_

Mr Cherry is very pleased with my work, and has raised my wages by €0.02 an hour. He offered me the Corporation Row evening round, but I declined his offer. Corporation Row is where the council puts all the bad tenants. Barry Kent lives at number 13.

Mr Cherry also offered me two back copies of _Big and Bouncy_ , a magazine that is only allowed on the top shelf. I said no thanks, and Mr Cherry said, "Don't worry, lad – I won't tell your mum". I still shook my head, and could feel myself turning red.

Then Mr Cherry gave me a sort of sideways look, and said, "Maybe that's not quite to your taste. Here, what about this one?". He held out a copy of a magazine called _Fitness Monthly_ , which had a lot of pictures of people working out in gyms and so on, both men and women, in skimpy outfits.

"You like keeping fit, don't you Howard?", Mr Cherry asked. I said I did exercises to jazz every day, as well as Games once a week, walking the dog, walking to deliver papers, and walking to school. Mr Cherry said, "Well, this should be right up your street. You can read it for the articles, and if you enjoy the pictures too ... well, where's the harm in that?".

I said thanks, and took a couple of copies with me. Even though the magazine is not lewd in any way, I still hid it in the bottom of my wardrobe. People might misunderstand.

Phoned Social Services and asked about a home help for Lester Corncrake. I lied and said I was his grandson. They are sending a social worker to see him on Monday.

I have lost my library card, so I borrowed my father's and got out _War and Peace_. Mrs Gideon has a lovely Russian accent, so I thought this would impress her. When I got to the check-out desk, I said, "I feel very drawn to anything from Russia, Mrs Gideon", as a subtle hint. To my shock, she said, "That's nice, er ... George". She still hasn't remembered my name – she's just been reading it off the card! I confess to feeling rather hurt.

Took dog to meet Mrs Pelham's goat. They got on well.

**Saturday March 7th**

After paper round, went back to bed and stayed there all morning reading _Fitness Monthly_. _Felt_ myself in a way I have never _felt_ before. I took notice of which pictures I liked most, and there was a bit of a pattern.

Went shopping in Budgens with my mother and father, but I kept thinking about the magazine. My mother said I looked hot and bothered, and sent me to sit in the car and wait for them.

Finished _War and Peace_. It was quite good.

**Sunday March 8th**  
_First in Lent_

My mother has gone to an assertiveness training for women workshop. Men aren't allowed. I asked Dad what "assertiveness training" is, but he said he wasn't completely sure.

Dad made Sunday dinner. We had cod fillets in butter sauce, oven-cooked chips, and steamed broccoli, with tinned peaches and Dream Topping for afters. My father opened a bottle of white wine, and let me have some. I don't know much about wine, but it seemed a pleasant enough vintage. We both washed up and cleaned the kitchen together, and then we watched _Bonanza_ on television.

My mother came home during the Davis Cup and started bossing us around. She said, "Things are going to be different around here from now on", and things like that. Then she went into the kitchen and started making a chart dividing all the housework equally into three. I pointed out I already had a paper round to do, an old age pensioner to look after, and a dog to feed and walk, as well as my schoolwork, but she didn't listen. She put the chart on the wall and said, "We start tomorrow".

**Monday March 9th**  
_Commonwealth Day_

Cleaned toilet, washed bath and basin before doing my paper round. Came home, made breakfast, put washing in machine, went to school. Gave Barry Kent his menaces money, went to Lester Corncrake's and waited for social worker who didn't come, had school dinner. Had Domestic Science – made apple crumble. Came home. Vacuumed hall, living room, and dining area. Peeled potatoes, chopped up cabbage, cut finger, washed blood off cabbage. Put lamb chops under grill, looked in cookery book for a recipe for gravy, made gravy. Strained lumps out of gravy with colander. Set table, served dinner, washed up. Put saucepans in to soak. Got washing out of machine; everything blue. Hung washing on clothes horse. Fed dog, ironed PE kit, cleaned shoes. Did homework, practised guitar. Took dog for a walk, did jazz exercises, had bath. Cleaned bath. Made three cups of tea. Washed tea cups up. Went to bed. Just my luck to have an assertive mother!

**Tuesday March 10th**  
_Prince Edward born, 1964_

Why couldn't I have been born Prince Edward, and Prince Edward been born Howard Moon? I am treated like a serf.

**Wednesday March 11th**

Dragged myself to school after doing paper round and housework. My mother wouldn't give me a note to excuse me from Games, so I left my PE kit at home. I was too tired to run around in the cold wind.

That sadist Mr Jones made me run all the way home to fetch my PE kit. The dog must have followed me out of the house, because it was waiting at the school gates for me. I tried to shut the dog out, but it squeezed through the railings and followed me to the playground. I ran into the changing rooms and left the dog outside, but I could hear its loud bark echoing around the school.

I tried to sneak onto the playing fields, but the dog saw me and followed me, then it saw Vince and started jumping up on him, looking happy. Vince told the dog it wasn't allowed at school, but then it saw the football and joined in the lesson! The dog is dead good at football, even Mr Jones was impressed until the dog punctured the ball.

Mr Bainbridge, the red-faced wobble-cheeked headmaster, saw everything from his window. He ordered me to take the dog home. I said I would miss my sitting for school dinners, but he said that would teach me not to bring pets to school.

Mrs Leech, the dinner lady, did a very kind thing. She put my curry and rice, and spotted dick and custard in the oven to keep warm. Mrs Leech doesn't like Mr Bainbridge, so she gave me a large marrow bone to take home for the dog.

Anyway, as far as I am concerned, the dog has had its walk for today, and isn't going for another one!

**Thursday March 12th**

Woke up this morning to find my hands and face covered in an itchy red rash. My mother said it was caused by nerves, but I am convinced I have contracted a disease. I looked in the medical dictionary, and it might be scarlet fever, urticaria, pellagra, or possibly hand, foot and mouth disease.

My mother rang Dr Grey, but the soonest he can see me is Monday! I could be spreading dengue fever or something about the neighbourhood for all he knows! I told my mother to say I am an emergency case, but she said, "Howard, you are over-reacting as usual". She said a bit of a rash doesn't mean I am dying. I couldn't believe it when she said she was going to work as usual. Surely her child should come first?

Mum said, "Howard, if I don't go to work, I'll get the sack". I wish I could sack her as my mother.

Once my parents had left for work, I rang my grandparents, and they drove over from Wakefield to get me, and put me to bed at their house. I am there now. It is very clean and peaceful. I am wearing my dead uncle's pyjamas. I have just eaten a bowl of home made beef and barley soup. It feels like the most nourishing thing I have eaten in weeks.

I expect there will be a row when my parents come home and discover I am gone. But frankly, my dear diary, I don't give a damn.

**Friday March 13th**  
_First Quarter_

The Wakefield emergency doctor came to my grandparent's last night at 11.30 pm. He diagnosed me as suffering from dermatitis, and said it was very common, possibly caused by the cleaning products I have been in contact with. He said it does not constitute a medical emergency. He said it was very unlikely I have dengue fever, as I haven't been in the tropics recently. He told Nana to take the disinfected sheets off the doors and windows, and got angry when Grandpa said they would like to get a second opinion.

Dad came and got me after school, looking really furious. He had a loud conversation with his parents in the kitchen, saying that they had done the wrong thing in taking me from my home and school without permission. In the car, he said I couldn't have picked a worse time to pull a stunt like this, and that I have a lot of extra homework to catch up on. He pointed out that it looks really bad for a teacher to have a son play truant from school for two days, and that he would have to make up an excuse to Mr Bainbridge.

I am now trying to catch up with my homework. My father just popped his head around the door to say, "Wait till your mother gets home", in a threatening sort of voice.

**Saturday March 14th**

When my mother got home from work last night, she looked all weird and nervous, and said she had some news for us. They are opening a new branch of the insurance company in Sheffield, and they have chosen Mum as part of the team who are in charge of getting it started.

Dad said, "But you said you aren't going, surely?", and then Mum said, "If I turn this down, I'll never get chosen for anything else again. I might as well resign on the spot". I couldn't see why she can't just resign then, but the arguing went on all night.

This morning my rash was worse, I think it's all the stress. I rang Mr Cherry and said I was unable to work for a few weeks, due to a disfiguring illness and some personal problems. When he asked what they were, I said my mother was going to Sheffield for her career, and he asked if I wanted to cancel her subscription to _Cosmopolitan_? I said to go ahead.

My parents have given me €10 to make up for all the shouting and screaming last night. I bought some cortisone cream for my skin, Weather Report's latest LP, and some purple stationery so that the BBC will be impressed and read my poems. The rest will have to go to that blackmailing scuzzball, Barry Kent. I don't think anyone can in the world can be as unhappy as me. If I didn't have my poetry, I would be a raving loony by now.

Went for a sad walk, and took a couple of apples for Mrs Pelham's goat. Thought of a poem about the goat. Wrote it down when I got back to the house where I live.

 _The Goat, a poem by Howard Moon, aged nearly fourteen_  
Little brown nanny goat  
On the allotment  
I wonder when  
My friends will relent?  
Until I can be with them  
I come and see you  
Patting your head through the fence  
Like an animal in the zoo.  
Little brown nanny goat  
I bid you a fond adieu  
As I turn to go home  
Always in isolation, forever alone.

I have sent it to the BBC. I marked the envelope "Urgent".

**Sunday March 15th**  
_Second in Lent_

My parents have been talking all day about Mum going to Sheffield and how that is going to work. Mum says she will only need to be in Sheffield for a few months, and we can visit her and she can visit us. She kept saying, "It's not forever, and I want to do something with my life. I need to know I'm capable of doing this, even if it scares me".

I brought them a cup of tea in the afternoon, and Dad said "Thanks, son" in a choked-up sounding voice. I could see they needed to keep talking, so I made dinner and washed up, then did the ironing. I'm getting quite good at housework.

I'm reading _Dead Souls_ , still trying to impress Mrs Gideon with my interest in Russian literature. She called me Howard this time, but it might only be because I was using my own library card again. Gogol never finished writing the novel. He starved himself to death instead, having lost the will to live. I wonder if I will finish reading it, or succumb to the same fate?

**Monday March 16th**

Didn't feel like spending half-term hanging around the house with a depressed father, so I went to see Lester Corncrake. At least he can't see that I'm covered in a grotesque rash. He said the social worker had been, and Lester has been refused a home help, but they have referred him to the Guide Dog Association to get some help with Sabre.

There was a full week's washing up in the sink again. Lester said he saves it up for me as I do such a good job. While I washed up, I told Lester about my mother getting sent to Sheffield for work. He said, "Howard, your mother is like a beautiful wild bird. You must set her free, so she can fly on her own two wings through the wide blue yonder. Besides, Sheffield is only 40 minutes away by train".

Lester showed me a photo of his wife, who died before the war. I asked if he was blind when he met her, but he said he wasn't at that time, which surprised me. I said that these days she would be able to have plastic surgery and lead an almost normal life. Lester said his wife wasn't beautiful on the outside, but that she had "hidden depths". I hope that isn't a sex thing.

Lester said he went blind during his marriage. I thought maybe he actually tried to rip his own eyes out, but he said his eyesight went gradually. I think his eyes sacrificed their sight to save his sanity. Lester said he grew up on a farm, which is maybe why he ended up married to someone who looked like an animal. I asked if he'd like to visit the allotments, and he said he would, so he put the harness on Sabre, and I took him there.

It took us ages. Lester walks dead slow, and he kept having to sit down on garden walls and rest, but we got there eventually. He enjoyed smelling all the flowers in the allotment, there are quite a lot even this early in the year, violets and pansies and things, and the smell of the earth and compost and grass, and probably all sorts of smells I don't bother noticing.

He patted the little brown goat all over, and stroked her udders, saying that she had magnificent teats, and must be a great milker. He kept doing that for so long that it felt a bit wrong, and I wished that he would stop. Sabre sniffed at the goat, but luckily didn't growl at her or bite her.

We sat down so Lester could have a Gauloise and I had a Mars Bar. Then we walked back to Lester's house. I went to the shops and bought Vesta beef curry and orange Instant Whip so Lester could have a decent meal. I washed up, and then we watched _Pebble Mill at One_ , which is mostly talking so Lester doesn't need to see anything.

Afterwards Lester started telling me about the farm where he grew up, and why they had to leave the farm, but he fell asleep before I learned the reason why.

Came home, Dad wasn't there, so I sat in my room listening to Weather Report.

**Tuesday March 17th**  
_St Patrick's Day. Bank Holiday in Ireland and Northern Ireland_

Read _Fitness Monthly_ in bed. Measured my thing. It was fifteen centimetres.

Mr O'Leary who lives across the road from us was drunk by ten o'clock in the morning! He got thrown out of the butcher's for singing.

**Wednesday March 18th**

Mum signed her new contract at work today. It is official. She is leaving me and Dad to go to Sheffield.

My rash is starting to get better thanks to the cortisone cream.

**Thursday March 19th**

Mr Lucas has put his house up for sale. The asking price is €30 000! I asked my parents what he will do with all that money, and they said he would buy a different house. How stupid can you get?

If I had €30 000 I would travel the world, having adventures, and taking photographs of all the amazing sights I saw. Then I would get them published in _Global Explorer_ magazine and become famous.

Before I left, I would

* Send Vince a dozen boxes of sweets and chocolates  
* Pay a hit man €50 to duff Barry Kent up  
* Buy the best racing bike in the world and ride it past Leroy's house  
* Order a massive crate of expensive dog food so the dog is well fed while I am away  
* Buy a housekeeper for Lester Corncrake  
* Offer my mother €2000 not to go to Sheffield

When I came back, I would be tall, strong, bronzed, and have an interesting ironic face. I would buy a farmhouse in the country, and become known as a reclusive genius. One room would be my study, so I could be quiet and intellectual and write poems, while I would convert another one into a recording studio to make jazz records. Vince would realise he made a huge mistake, and feel sad that he missed out on being my friend.

I wouldn't waste €30 000 on buying a semi-detached house in a boring suburb!

**Friday March 20th**  
_First day of Spring. Full Moon._

It is the first day of spring. The council have chopped down all the oaks on Oak Street, because they had root rot.

**Saturday March 21st**

Dad bought Mr Lucas' colour television off him, so my parents are letting me have our old black and white one in my bedroom. I can lie in bed and watch the late-night horror. Tonight it was _Persecution_ starring Lana Turner, about a man who goes insane due to his evil mother's twisted behaviour. He swears vengeance on her for all the years of resentment he has had to endure. I found myself sympathising with Lana Turner's son. There is only so much a man can take, after all.

**Sunday March 22nd**  
_Third in Lent. British Summer Time begins._

It is Nana's birthday today. She is seventy-six, but looks older. Because it is her birthday, we all had to go to to the Spiritualist church service and hear the medium. There were messages for several people, but nothing for Nana and Grandpa. You would think they would make more effort for her birthday! Nana was dead disappointed, I could tell.

We couldn't make Nana cook on her birthday, so we took Nana and Grandpa out to a restaurant that served old-fashioned sort of dishes like Beef Wellington and steamed pudding. She said the food wasn't as good as what she could do herself. This was true, but not tactful. Dad looked grumpy with her.

When we got to their house, we gave Nana her card, and a big pot plant called a Swiss Cheese plant. It has holes in the leaves, but they are meant to be there. Its scientific name is _Monstera deliciosa_. Mum said it is a low maintenance plant that doesn't need much care.

Nana said: "There are those happy to neglect their duty to those in their care, but I'm one who enjoys looking after things, and people too".

Mum looked as if she might cry, and I felt upset with Nana. I know it's her birthday, but she can't say things like that to Mum.

Everybody seemed to be in a bad mood with everybody else, and I was glad when we left.

**Monday March 23rd**

Back to school, worse luck! We had Domestic Science today, and made baked potatoes with cheese filling. My potatoes were bigger than anyone else's, so they weren't properly cooked when the lesson ended, and I finished them off at Lester Corncrake's. He wanted to go to the allotment again, which was a bit of a drag as it takes him so long to walk anywhere. But we went, anything is better than doing Maths at school.

Lester had brought a brush with him, and I'd brought a bit of stale bread, so we fed the goat, and then Lester patted her and brushed her all over. She looked really nice and shiny when he'd finished. I told him that, and he said he could feel the shine by rubbing his fingers through her coat. Lester got out of breath, so he sat down and had a Gauloise, then we walked back to Lester's house.

The Guide Dog Association could give only limited help with Sabre. As I suspected, he is not a proper guide dog, but Lester wouldn't hear of getting rid of him. He's had Sabre since he was a puppy. The Guide Dog people tried to train Sabre, but then they got bitten. However, they have organised a kennel for Sabre to live in, and now he is in a better mood, and Lester's house looks better too.

Lester said the social worker thinks he should go into a nursing home where he can be cared for properly. Lester doesn't want to go. He lied to the social worker and said his grandson came in every day and looked after him. The social worker is going to check up so I could be in trouble for impersonating a grandson!!!! The worries keep mounting up.

**Tuesday March 24th**

Dad took Mum out tonight. I think it is a last ditch attempt to convince her not to go to Sheffield. They're going to dinner at some posh hotel, and then there is dancing there or something. Dad had on a suit. Mum was wearing a black dress covered in sequins. They look alright for old people when they make an effort. I don't know when they are getting back.

 _Midnight:_ Parents still not home.

 _2 am:_ No sign of parents. I'm going to bed.

**Wednesday March 25th**  
_Annunciation_

Parents got home while I was having breakfast. They stayed overnight at the hotel. I said they could have let me know that, as I had been worried. Dad said it was a spontaneous decision and they thought it was too late to ring me. They seemed sort of happy and sad at the same time, so I don't know if the night out did any good.

We had swimming in Games today. The water was freezing cold, and so were the changing cubicles. I hate getting changed for swimming, the other kids always point and laugh at the mole on my chest. I feel like the homosexual villain Scaramanga from _The Man With the Golden Gun_. He had a third nipple. Everyone made fun of him, so he got a golden gun. That shut them up.

**Thursday March 26th**

Barry Kent has been done by the police for riding his bike without a rear light. I hope he gets sent to a Youth Detention Centre.

**Friday March 27th**

Went to the library after school and got out _A Clockwork Orange_. It's about the breakdown of society or something. I feel sort of anarchic at the moment. When Mrs Gideon said, "Enjoy your book", I just gave her a dry, sardonic expression while leaning casually on the checkout desk. She replied, "Due back in three weeks". I think she enjoys these exchanges of wit with me.

**Saturday March 28th**

Leroy and Vince came round today! They said it is all over the school that Mr Moon's wife has left him. "I'm really sorry your parents are splitting up, mate", Leroy said.

I explained that Mum got a job and is being sent to Sheffield for work, but they said they still feel really sorry for me. "Your mum is so nice", Vince said, looking sad. Vince is quite innocent in a lot of ways, so I didn't tell him that mothers aren't all home made sausage rolls and buying you _Rupert Bear_ annuals.

I asked if their visit meant we are friends again. Vince said, "Of course, Howard. You're my best mate. We thought you didn't want anything more to do with us".

I said I thought Leroy was my best mate, but Leroy said Vince was his best mate. I said it was getting too confusing, and can't all three of us just be best mates?

They heard about Barry Kent bullying me, and Leroy asked why. I didn't want to admit it was because of me looking at Vince, so I said that he thought I had a lot of pocket money he could get off me, but I don't.

Leroy said he would have a word with Barry Kent and get him to lay off. Then he went on about racing bikes for a long time. I would usually have been a bit bored, but Vince kept catching my eye and giving me a little smile at how Leroy was rabbiting on, and then he started this rambling story about what if a racing bike mated with a unicorn, and would it be the fastest unicorn ever in the world? Vince really makes me laugh.

When they left, Vince started walking off with Leroy, and then he suddenly ran back and said, "I missed you, Howard. And I _did_ notice you – even when you followed me to the allotments". Then he gave me a cheeky grin and ran off with Leroy.

This is the best day I've had in ages.

**Sunday March 29th**  
_Fourth in Lent. Mothering Sunday._

Dad gave me €3 yesterday and said to buy Mum something for Mother's Day with it. I wasn't going to go into town, so I went to Mr Cherry's and bought a box of Black Magic and a card that says _To a wonderful mother_.

Card manufacturers must think all mothers are wonderful, because every single one had the word "wonderful" written on it somewhere. Nothing about mothers who abandon their families and go to Sheffield, or mothers who read dirty books, or mothers who stay out all night without even a phone call.

I signed the card, _From your son, Howard_. I gave her the card and chocolates this morning. She said, "Oh Howard, you shouldn't have". I'm inclined to agree.

**Monday March 30th**

Mum started packing for Sheffield when she got home from work. I didn't know what else to do, so I went in and helped her. Mum looked really sad packing, and I felt sad helping her. Dad came in and helped as well, and he looked miserable. I hope this doesn't cause me trauma at some point in the future.

Eventually Mum said there were "too many cooks", and she sent me out of the room. I think it was so she and Dad could cry without me being there. I went and sat alone in my room, and felt sorry for myself.

**Tuesday March 31st**

My mother has gone to Sheffield. Dad and I saw her off at the train station this morning before we left for school. She is only taking one small suitcase and her handbag. She said she would phone up tonight to let us know she was safe.

I went to the school secretary and told her I am now in a one-parent family. She was very kind, and gave me a form to fill in that will let me have free school dinners.

Leroy has asked Barry Kent if he could stop menacing me, due to my personal circumstances. Barry Kent said he would think about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Daffodils are traditionally given on St David's Day, as a symbol of Wales.
> 
> Bovril is a beef extract paste that can be turned into a drink by adding hot water to it. Great health benefits are imagined from drinking this British icon, and it's especially partaken of in cold weather.
> 
> "Big and Bouncy" is a fictional soft porn magazine from the original Adrian Mole novels (I think partly named after the 1971 album by The Who). "Fitness Monthly" is likewise fictional. I've noticed a lot of people use these type of magazines in the same manner as soft porn. 
> 
> Bird's Dream Topping is a powder that you mix with milk to make a whipped cream substitute. British equivalent of the US Dream Whip.
> 
> "Bonanza", the long-running western (1959-1973) TV drama was shown as a repeat on BBC One at 2.35 pm, followed by the Davis Cup at 3.25 pm on March 8 1981.
> 
> Weather Report's latest album was "Night Passage", which came out the previous year, in July 1980.
> 
> Howard reads "War and Peace" by Leo Tolstoy (1869), "Dead Souls" by Nikolai Gogol (1842), and "A Clockwork Orange" by Anthony Burgess (1962).
> 
> Lester smokes Gauloises cigarettes because this French brand has long appealed to artists and musicians. They seemed like something an old beatnik like Lester would choose. 
> 
> Vesta and Birds Instant Whip are two more brands of convenience foods. Vesta makes meals like curry and paella, while Instant Whip is a cold pudding. 
> 
> "Pebble Mill at One" was broadcast live every day on BBC One, a lunchtime light entertainment show that was groundbreaking in its era for realising there were quite a lot of people home in the middle of the day.
> 
> On March 21 1981, the late night movie on BBC One was the British psychological thriller "Persecution" (1974) starring Lana Turner as the twisted mother who treats her son cruelly. It is widely regarded as dismal.
> 
> Black Magic are cheap chocolate boxes originally made by Rowntree in York, the first affordable boxes of chocolates to be sold. Black Magic were marketed as gifts to be bought as part of the courtship process, suggesting that Howard is attempting a rather lacklustre "courtship" of his mother, just as his father takes her out to an expensive dinner dance in an attempt to persuade her to stay.


	4. April

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> RECAP: Teenage intellectual jazz poet and aspiring slap-bass guitarist, Howard Moon, has been reunited with his friends Vince and Leroy. However, his mother has unexpectedly left for Sheffield, after being chosen by her employers to help open a new insurance office there. 
> 
> THIS MONTH: As Howard and his dad learn to cope without Howard's mother, Howard discovers that Vince has once again chosen another friend over him. However, the Easter holidays give him a chance to get away from his bully, find out he and Lester share a common interest, spend time with Leroy, and visit his mum. But will anything have changed when he returns to school?

**Wednesday 1st**  
_All Fool's Day_

Leroy rang up this morning pretending he was the VD clinic, and asked when we would be in to collect our results. My father answered, and gave him a bollocking. I could hear him in the hall, shouting, "I know it's you Leroy, and you are far too old to be playing childish pranks on your teacher". Honestly! Dad has no sense of humour. Afterwards, Leroy said he thought I'd answer the phone.

I had a good laugh putting toothpaste on seats so that people got white marks on their bums, and getting to class early to put the clock forward, so that classes were shorter. Someone did a mean prank. People kept giggling at me, and eventually I realised I had something on my back, so I took it off, and it was a piece of paper that said POOF.

I remembered Vince had patted me on the shoulder, so I showed him the sign, and said that was a nasty prank. Vince looked upset, and said, "I wouldn't do that, Howard. I like you the best out of everyone”.

I said, “Don't say that on April Fool's Day, Vince!”, but he only said, “April Fool … what?”. I was in a mood with him all day after that.

The house looks squalid because my father isn't doing any housework at all. The dog is pining for my mother. She was its favourite person, after Vince. Even though I'm the one that feeds it and takes it for walks! Typical.

**Thursday 2nd**

Mum rang up tonight. I answered the phone. She said the company are putting them up in service flats until they can find somewhere to live. She feels out of things, because most other people in the team are younger and single, and she doesn't have much in common with them.

I asked what about the married people, then? Mum paused, and then in a funny voice she said, “Howard, the married men have their wives and children with them”. I felt dead guilty, because nobody even suggested that Dad and I go with Mum. But how would that have worked? Dad can't leave his job, and I don't want to leave my school and my friends.

Then I said, what about the married women? There was a long pause this time, and then Mum said, “Most married women didn't apply for it”. So she didn't just happen to get picked for this job, she applied for it. She asked to be sent away from me and Dad.

I didn't say goodbye, just handed the phone to Dad. Dad said he'd take the phone into the lounge, and told me to go upstairs and close my bedroom door. Dad talked for ages, and then he went and spent a long time in the bath. I didn't tell him about my mother's deceit.

**Friday 3rd**

Got full marks in the Geography test today. Yes! I am proud to report that I got twenty out of twenty. Dad also complimented me on the neat presentation of my work. There is nothing I don't know about the Danish fur industry.

Barry Kent seems to take delight in being ignorant. When Dad asked him where Denmark was, he said, “Turn left off the M1”. Even Vince laughed at this, along with the rest of the class. I remained composed, in solidarity with my father.

Went round to see Lester, and got stuck doing his dishes again. He asked if I wanted to listen to some music, so I said alright. He put a record on his dead old record player like something from a museum, and I said, “That's Charles Mingus”.

“You like you some Charlie Mingus?”, asked Lester, and I said I did like jazz. We ended up talking about jazz the whole time I was washing the dishes. I never get to talk about jazz with anyone except my father, so it was quite refreshing. Lester promised to have Miles Davis when I come over on Monday.

I told Lester my mother had left my father and me and gone to Sheffield. He said, “Howard, you love jazz, and jazz is freedom. Yeah, Thelonious Monk said that. Let your mother find her freedom. She got her own tune to play in the music of life”.

I said what if she ended up playing the wrong notes by mistake, and Lester said, “There are no wrong notes. There are only notes we don't like hearing, Howard”. I thought about it for a long time afterwards, and I don't know if that helped or not.

**Saturday 4th**  
_New Moon_

Me and my father cleaned the house this morning. We had no choice: my grandparents are coming to tea tomorrow. We went to Budgens in the afternoon. My father chose a trolley that was impossible to steer. It also squeaked as if someone was torturing mice. I was ashamed to be heard with it. My father kept choosing unhealthy food. I put my foot down and made him buy some fresh fruit and vegetables.

Saw a vicar buying purple three-ply toilet paper. How can he sleep at night, knowing there are poor people who have to buy shiny white? This is the hypocrisy of the church people keep talking about.

**Sunday 5th**  
_Passion Sunday_

Leroy and Vince came round this morning while Dad was cleaning the car. I was entertaining them with some interesting facts about the Danish fur industry when Vince complained about the icy cold, and said he wished he had some Danish fur. I went and got him a mink coat of Mum's that she didn't take to Sheffield, and he wrapped himself up in it. He said it was the first time he'd been properly warm since moving to Leeds.

Leroy and I patted him, and pretended he was a wild animal we had tamed. The fur feels really nice to stroke. Vince rubbed himself on us like a cat. I told him to wear the coat home, because he went on about having to walk back in the freezing wind. He looked like the kids in _The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe_ when they go into Narnia and it's all winter.

Dad made roast beef for dinner, but it wasn't the same as Nana's or Mum's. He didn't make his own Yorkshire puddings, he used frozen ones. He moaned about me making him buy fresh vegetables, when frozen ones are easier. I did the dishes and cleaned up. I have more experience at it than Dad.

Tea was a bit of a drag. Dad kept rambling on about how much he misses Mum. Nana kept saying horrible things about my mother. Grandpa complained that we both looked really scruffy. He said he would have been sacked if he'd gone to work looking like Dad. Nana said, “What do you expect, when they've been left to fend for themselves like this?”. We were both glad when they went home.

Looked at _Fitness Monthly_ , in honour of Passion Sunday.

**Monday 6th**

Had a letter from my mother. She said she misses us. She said Sheffield is alright, and the job is good, but dealing with other people isn't. She is still in the service flats, but wants us to visit once she is fixed up somewhere.

Dad has his own letter. He took it to the bedroom to read while I did my homework.

**Tuesday 7th**

When I got to school this morning, Vince came and talked with me and Leroy in the cloak room. He told us he has joined Bollo Thomas' gang, and he isn't allowed to be best mates with us any more, or talk to us at school. It's a test of his loyalty, or some crap. He said he can still be friends with us on weekends and holidays, if he isn't doing something with the gang.

I said sarcastically, “Well, that's big of you. Thanks a lot”. Vince looked unhappy, and said he needs to be in the gang, to be cool. Leroy told Vince he is already cool. He brightened up, and said thanks. Then he went to class without us. That's the last banana you get from me, Bollo!

Barry Kent is in trouble for drawing a nude woman in Art. Ms Fossington-Gore said it wasn't the subject matter so much as his ignorance of basic biological facts that was so upsetting. I did a good drawing of the Incredible Hulk smashing Bollo Thomas to pieces. Ms Fossington-Gore said it was “a powerful statement of monolithic oppression”.

Phone call from my mother this evening. Her voice sounded funny, like she had a cold. She said, “One day you will understand, Howard”. I handed her over to Dad, and he made sloppy kissing noises at the phone. Yuck.

**Wednesday 8th**

My father wouldn’t give me a note excusing me from Games so I spent nearly all morning dressed in pyjamas diving into a swimming pool and picking up a brick from the bottom. I had a bath when I came home but I still smell of chlorine.

I just don’t see the point of the above lesson. When I am grown up I am hardly going to walk along a river bank in my pyjamas, am I? And who would be stupid enough to dive into a river for a boring old brick? Bricks are lying around all over the place!

**Thursday 9th**

Had a really good talk with Dad after school. He said he knew he had been a bit useless lately, what with missing Mum, but that he wants things to be different. I said maybe he needs an outside interest. He said funny I should say that, because he read a pamphlet about joining a group called The Man Council. It's a group of blokes who go about doing stuff for charity or something. He said this could be a way of meeting new people, while doing something worthwhile.

Dad said he phoned them up, and talked to someone named Dennis. Dennis said Dad would be very welcome and they always need new members. He went to a meeting tonight at The Nag's Head, but still isn't home, and it's nearly 11 pm. I'm not waiting up for him. I learned my lesson about that.

**Friday 10th**

Dad looked really hungover this morning. He said they had a few drinks, and the lads at The Man Council are a right laugh, but he can't remember much else. He's not really sure what charity work they do. He said it's all a bit of a blur now.

I rang my grandparents to tell them about The Man Council. Nana asked what sort of charity meets at really rough pubs like The Nag's Head? Then Grandpa took the phone, and said would we all stop fussing over Dad? He said he was a grown man, and it was about time he started going for a drink at the pub like other men. "You should mind your own business", Grandpa said to me.

Got a book called _The Zoo Story_ out of the library to read over the holidays. I was disappointed to discover it is a play, and not really about zoos. Still, I will give it a go. I have been neglecting my brain lately. I've barely done anything intellectual for weeks.

Leroy asked if I wanted to stay the weekend. His parents are going to a wedding in Nottingham. I said alright, if Dad lets me. He said that Vince wouldn't be there, he is with the gang. I said it didn't matter, we were still mates, weren't we? Leroy agreed we were still mates. Dad said I could go. He looked quite pleased, maybe he is happy I have a friend again. I am going round to Leroy's in the morning.

**Saturday 11th**  
_First Quarter_

Leroy is dead lucky. He has a fantastic house, and everything is new and modern. What must he think of our house, some of the furniture is over a hundred years old!

His bedroom is massive, and he has a colour television, tape deck, and Scalextric track. His stereo and electric guitar are better than mine, even though Leroy hardly ever bothers to practice music. Black walls, white carpet, with spotlights over the bed. A racing car continental quilt. Leroy only lives a few streets over, and yet he is living the high life, while I am practically in the slums.

Leroy subscribes to _Fitness Monthly_ , and keeps every issue. We looked through a few, and Leroy asked me which birds I fancied from the magazine. I flicked through a few pages, and pointed to one. Leroy said she looked like Vince with black hair. She didn't really, but she was slim with big blue eyes and had a pointy sort of face. I said she had a nice bum. Leroy said Vince would make a good-looking bird, anyway.

I said I preferred older women, and said there was one married lady I had my eye on, that I thought I might have a chance with. Leroy said, “No way will an old married lady go with a schoolboy”, but I said she was an intellectual and that the rules of an everyday society meant nothing to her. I did think that I detected a softer note in Mrs Gideon's voice when she handed me _The Zoo Story_. Maybe she likes zoos.

While Leroy had a shower, I made soup and cut up the French loaf. I told Leroy about _The Zoo Story_ , and how it's not even about a zoo, just two blokes talking on a park bench. He said, “That's false advertising, mate. He should of called it _The Park Bench_ _Story_ ”. I improvised some dialogue between two men who work in a zoo, and had Leroy in hysterics the whole time. He said I had to tell Vince next time we saw him.

I had a really good go on Leroy's racing bike. You wouldn't believe the speed I could get up to, just riding around the streets. Imagine how fast it would be on the open road.

We went to the chip shop for tea, and had the works. Fish, chips, pickled onions, gherkins, sloppy peas. Nothing was too expensive for Leroy, he gets loads of pocket money, and he doesn't have to save any of it.

After tea we walked around for a bit, and then we watched a film about Krakatoa on the telly. I said the volcano reminded me of red-faced Mr Bainbridge, because our headmaster is always just about to erupt. Leroy had hysterics again. I think I might have a talent to amuse people. I might decide not to become the greatest slap-bass jazz guitarist in the world after all, but to write situation comedy for television instead.

After we finished watching telly, Leroy said he would pour us a nightcap, and made two stiff whisky and sodas. I never tasted whisky before and I never will again. It tastes like something out of a medicine bottle.

I don't remember going up to bed, but I must have done, because I'm writing my diary in Leroy's parents' bed.

**Sunday 12th**  
_Palm Sunday_

This weekend with Leroy has really opened my eyes. Without knowing it, I have been living in poverty for nearly fourteen years. I have had to put up with inferior accommodation, lousy food, and a paltry amount of pocket money. My father has failed to provide a decent standard of living for his family. Perhaps if _we_ had a formica cocktail bar in the corner of _our_ lounge my mother would still be living with us. But instead he actually boasts about our hundred year old furniture. Yes! Instead of being ashamed of our antiques, he is proud of the clapped-out old rubbish.

The house was in a dreadful state when I got home. Dad said he'd had the lads from The Man Council around for tea yesterday. There were empty bottles everywhere, and puddles of some mysterious bright pink substance. The whole house smelled funny. I made Dad help me clean it all up. Honestly! He's completely gone to pot since Mum left.

**Monday 13th**

Had a note from Mr Cherry asking me when I can resume my paper round. I sent a note back to say that due to my mother’s desertion I am still in a fragile mental state. This is true. I wore odd socks yesterday without knowing it. One was red and one was green. I must pull myself together. I could end up in a lunatic asylum.

**Tuesday 14th**

Had a letter from my mother. She has found a flat and wants me and my father to visit as soon as possible. Her new address is 79A Dover Lane, Sheffield. It's on the corner of Peace Road.

I asked Dad if we were going, and he said yes, after Easter. Mum has holidays then.

**Wednesday 15th**

Went to the youth club with Leroy. It was dead good. We played ping-pong until the balls cracked, and then Bollo's gang came in, including Vince. I thought we should maintain our dignity and ignore them, or even leave, but Leroy cares nothing for dignity. He yelled out, “Hey, Bollo! You want to play us on the football table?”.

Bollo gestured for Vince to play on his team, and he came over, grinning at us like a nutter. It was a good game, and we swapped a team member at half time, so Vince was on my team and Leroy was on Bollo's. Vince and me beat Bollo and Leroy fifty goals to thirteen. Leroy said they only lost because their goalkeeper's legs were stuck on with Sellotape, but it was actually the superior skill of me and Vince. At the end, we jumped around celebrating together.

A punk girl from Bollo's gang passed unkind comments about my trousers, and I couldn't answer back because my voice went all funny and my hands were sweaty. Vince told her to lay off, and then Bob Fossil came over and said, “You should stop worrying about what trousers Howard is wearing, because it's what's in his trousers that counts, young lady”. Which was yucky, but it got rid of the girl, who went away sticking her finger down her throat making sick noises.

I saw Barry Kent coming towards the door of the youth club, and froze. Vince looked dead worried. Bollo asked him, “That bloke bother you, Vince?”, and Vince said, “Yeah. He's a bully. I'm scared of him”. Then Bollo pushed Barry Kent out into the rain, shouting, “Don't you scare my mate, Kent. He's delicate, he is. You want him, you get through me first, understand?”. Barry Kent looked completely confused, like when he does sums at school.

I whispered, “Thanks, mate” to Vince, because I owed Barry Kent €2 menaces money. Vince and I make a good team.

**Thursday 16th**  
_Maundy Thursday_

Went round to Lester's. He put on Sarah Vaughan while I did the dishes. He said he always liked Sarah Vaughan, because she is blind, like him. I said I never heard she went blind, and he said, “Well, she was blind when I met her. Maybe she was just blind drunk!”. Then he laughed. I am learning to take some of Lester's tall stories with a grain of salt.

**Friday 17th**  
_Good Friday_

Poor Jesus. It must have been dead awful for him. I would never have had the guts to do it, myself.

The dog has mauled all the hot cross buns and ruined them. It doesn't respect any traditions.

**Saturday 18th**  
_Full Moon_

Got a parcel from Mum with chocolates in it for me and Dad. There was a big chocolate rabbit for me, and she put in a note saying she remembered I always like to start at the ears. An egg carton filled with a dozen chocolate eggs. A bag of mini eggs. And a tin of chocolates.

When Dad opened the parcel, he said, “Whoops. Knew I forgot something”. If it wasn't for Mum, we wouldn't have even had a proper Easter.

**Sunday 19th**  
_Easter Sunday_

Today is the day Jesus escaped from the cave. People didn't believe it was really him, but then Doubtful Thomas stuck his fingers into him.

Dad and I watched _Alice's Adventures in Wonderland_ while we ate some of our chocolate. I didn't think Dad would want to watch a kid's film, but he said he'd gained a new appreciation of it after spending time with The Man Council, and said it was a real trip. We both laughed our faces off at Spike Milligan as the Gryphon.

After the film we went and had tea with my grandparents. Nana made a fantastic cake, a shiny chocolate layer with little fluffy yellow chicks covering it. Dad got some of the fluff in his mouth and choked. Grandpa had to thump hard on his back.

Went to see Lester Corncrake after tea, and gave him two of our mini eggs. He seemed really pleased. He wanted to give me something in return, so he hunted around, and eventually came out with a pile of old magazines called _The American Boy_. He said he read them when he was young. They have got great stories and pictures. I read them until 3 am this morning. Us intellectuals keep antisocial hours. It does our brains good.

**Monday 20th**  
_Bank Holiday (except Scotland)_

We rang Mum to let her know we would be coming to visit. She sounded quite excited.

**Tuesday 21st**

Spent the day packing. I packed two suitcases, and Dad made me unpack one of them. He said the car can't carry that much weight. Made Dad pack a toothbrush and more than one pair of trousers.

**Wednesday 22nd**

Took the dog and all its food to Leroy's place. He agreed to take care of it while me and Dad are in Sheffield. Then packed the car, and eventually it was time to leave. The drive down was very boring. Dad doesn't like people to talk while he's driving, and I feel sick if I read, so we sat in silence watching the motorway unroll beneath us. When I am old enough to drive, I will let the front passenger talk and entertain me. I think that will be a lot more fun.

Sheffield looks OK, just like home really. I didn't see any knife and fork factories. I expect Margaret Thatcher has closed them all down. Dad got lost trying to find Mum's address, and swore a lot. He swore more when I pointed out the irony of a Geography teacher getting lost. But finally we arrived in Dover Lane, and knocked on Mum's door.

My mother started crying on the doorstep when she opened the door and saw it was us. It was embarrassing, but quite nice at the same time. She hugged and kissed us. That went on for a while. The flat is dead grotty. It is modern, but small. You can hear the neighbours coughing. My mother is used to better things. I am dead tired, so will stop.

I hope Leroy is being kind to the dog. I wish my mother would come home. I had forgotten how nice she is.

**Thursday 23rd**  
_St George's Day_

We all went shopping in town this morning. Mum said Dad and I both looked like a pair of scruffs, and she made us go to the barber and get our hair cut (and Dad got his beard trimmed). She bought both of us new clothes. I got some dead good jeans that nobody could make fun of, and a dark red zip up jacket. I think I look a bit like James Dean in _Rebel Without a Cause_. We bought Mum a new lamp from Habitat for the flat.

We went to a Chinese restaurant for lunch, and then saw a Monty Python film about the life of Jesus. It was dead daring, I felt guilty for laughing. Not Mum and Dad, they laughed really loudly all the way through it, and now Dad says “Brian Christ!” whenever he is annoyed. It's dead clever, because nobody could be offended by saying Brian.

Dad cooked tea and I washed up. Mum said it was nice to put her feet up for once. Later on I phoned Leroy from a call box. I just had time to shout, “Don't forget to feed the dog!”, before the pips went.

Retired to bed early because of all the slopping my parents are doing on each other. I hope they realise how thin the walls are in this flat.

**Friday 24th**

Dad got his toolbox out of the car and made some repairs around the flat. He had to go to the DIY to get some things, so now the front door handle is screwed on properly, and none of the doors squeak, and the tiles in the bathroom are stuck down, and the kitchen cabinets close. Dad put up hooks everywhere so that Mum can put her coat and bag on hooks to keep them out of the way.

Mum and I gave the kitchen a really good clean. We were mopping up the dirt that other tenants had left behind. The kitchen is awful, painted brown and cream, just like the toilets at school. I cleaned out all the cupboards and arranged everything properly. I want my mother to live somewhere nicer. I can't believe she left us for this!

Dad bought me a penknife at the DIY. It is full of gadgets that I feel sure will prove useful to me in everyday life.

**Saturday 25th**

My parents keep being lecherous with each other. They are constantly kissing and holding hands and putting their arms around each other's shoulders. I wish they would remember that they are old, and married, and that their son is present!

In the afternoon, Dad drove us to the Peak District, it is high up and hilly. I looked for signs my mother was trying to meet a wealthy Derbyshire landowner, but she didn't seem to be. She didn't even want to go to Chatsworth House.

I got freezing cold, so I sat in the car and watched my parents make a spectacle of themselves. Thank God the cold had kept away other members of the public, and there was nobody else around. It is not a pretty sight to see old people running up hills in the snow, holding hands and laughing.

Came back, had a bath, thought about the dog. I'm going to bed. Home tomorrow.

 _3 am: J_ ust had a dream about stabbing Barry Kent to death with the toothpick on my penknife. Best dream I've had in ages.

**Sunday 26th**

_2.10 pm:_ So my sojourn in Sheffield is drawing to a close, and I have barely five hours to pack. I shan't be sorry to leave this sordid flat and the coughing neighbours, although naturally I regret my mother's stubbornness in refusing to come home with us.

I told her the dog was pining away for her, but she made me ring Leroy to check, and he said the dog had just eaten a tin of Pedigree Chum and a bowl of Winalot. I told her my father had begun consorting with a gang who hang out in filthy pubs, but she said Dad had already told her about The Man Council, and she thinks it's wonderful that he's making new friends, and contributing to such a worthwhile cause. _What_ worthwhile cause?

I have done my best to get her back, but must admit defeat.

 _11 pm:_ Dad and I drove home, in silence, after tea. We picked up the dog from Leroy's on the way home. It jumped up at me, missed, and nearly fell down Leroy's front steps. It is so clumsy. When we got home I took the dog for a walk then unpacked, before dusting Stationery Village and ironing my uniform for school tomorrow. Dad went to bed early. He is probably tired from driving.

**Monday 27th**

Mrs Bull taught us to wash up in Domestic Science. Talk about teaching your grandmother to suck eggs! I must be one of the best washer-uppers in the world! Barry Kent broke an unbreakable plate so Mrs Bull sent him out of the room. I saw him smoking quite openly in the corridor. He has certainly got a nerve! I felt it was my duty to report him to Mrs Bull. I did this purely out of concern for Barry Kent’s health. He was taken to wobble-cheeks Bainbridge and his Benson and Hedges were confiscated. Leroy said he saw Mr Bainbridge smoking them in the staff room at dinner-time, but surely this can’t be true?

Vince and Bollo Thomas have been making an exhibition of themselves, climbing trees in the playground, and hanging upside down, and swinging from branches. Dad had to knock on the staff room window and tell them to stop mucking about. That made Vince and Bollo giggle, but they did drop to the ground after that. I actually got a pain in my chest, I was so worried about Vince falling and hurting himself.

**Tuesday 28th**

Mr Bainbridge gave a speech at assembly this morning. It was about playing safely at school, in a manner which would not hurt either you or others, or damage school property. It was really about Vince and Bollo climbing trees. The speech did not do any good, because I saw them giving each other the thumbs-up signal while we were singing _There is a Green Hill Far Away_. Bollo should not lure Vince into doing wrong things at school, especially dangerous things, even if Vince is very clever to be able to climb like that.

**Wednesday 29th**

Dad is increasingly depressed since we got back from Sheffield, and moons about the house, not able to settle to anything. He went out with The Man Council tonight. Even though it's a school night, and he should be marking papers, it's something of a relief not to have him here.

**Thursday 30th**

I was seriously menaced at school today. Barry Kent threw my snaplock executive briefcase on to the rugby pitch during Games. I have got to find two euros quickly before he starts throwing _me_ on to the rugby pitch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> VD clinic: sexual health clinic. VD was an earlier term for STIs.
> 
> icy cold: there are a few complaints about the cold in this chapter, even though it's spring. In April 1981, there was a cold snap in the UK which brought chilly conditions and even snow to the north of England by the end of the month. I'm not sticking to the weather on a day-by-day basis, but this was too widespread a weather event to ignore.
> 
> The Nag's Head: a real pub in Leeds; it seems to be a traditional name for hotels in the area. In real life, it apparently has a bit of a reputation for being rough, just like in the story. 
> 
> Howard reads “The Zoo Story”, a black comedy play by Edward Albee (1958). Set in Central Park in New York, it is an encounter between two very different men, and deals with loneliness and isolation (favourite topics of Howard Moon). 
> 
> The fact that Howard begins writing amusing dialogue between two men who work at a zoo and wonders if he should write comedy for TV, makes me think that this Howard and Vince are the teenaged “real” Howard and Vince, who write and act in “The Mighty Boosh”, and introduce it from the stage. 
> 
> Leroy's parents' house is decorated in the latest fashions of the late 1970s/early 1980s, and is in what we might consider fairly bad taste. Despite Howard's envy, and belief that he lives in slum conditions, it's clear they're both from middle class homes – just different ways of being middle class. Leroy's family probably does have more money though. 
> 
> Scalextric: a UK brand of toy slot car racing sets, made since the late 1950s, and still manufactured today. 
> 
> continental quilt: an early term for a duvet. Although they'd been sold in the UK since the 1950s, they only became affordable for the average home in the 1970s; they are now ubiquitous. Howard's less trendy parents haven't latched onto this new fashion yet. 
> 
> The film Howard and Leroy watch is “Krakatoa, East of Java”, a 1969 disaster film about the 1883 volcano eruption which received scathing reviews - in particular because Krakatoa is actually west of Java. It was shown at 6.15 pm on BBC One on April 11 1981.
> 
> Howard's mum's address is something of a joke. Her flat is on the corner of Dover Lane and Peace Road – Kate Dover and Charles Peace were notorious murderers from Sheffield, and not the sort of people who would have streets named after them. 
> 
> The film Howard and his dad watch is “Alice's Adventures in Wonderland”, a 1972 British fantasy musical based on the Lewis Carroll novel, with a distinguished ensemble cast. It was shown on BBC One at 1.55 pm on April 19 1981. 
> 
> “The American Boy” was a US children's magazine published monthly from 1889 to 1941, and in its time, the biggest-selling magazine for boys. It featured adventure stories as well as practical articles, and had some quality authors and artists working for it.
> 
> knife and fork factories: Sheffield is traditionally famous for making cutlery from stainless steel. During the 1970s and early 1980s, manufacturing suffered due to globalisation and increased automation – this was known as the steel crisis, in which many steel mills closed down. The problem started before Margaret Thatcher became prime minister, and occurred in other markets, such as Europe and the US.
> 
> “Rebel Without a Cause”, the 1955 drama starring James Dean and Natalie Wood as the rebellious middle class teens. The film wasn't shown uncut in the UK until 1967 due to violence, and was originally given an X rating. It was re-released in 1976 with an AA rating, the precursor to PG. Howard may not have actually seen the film, but is basing his image on movie posters and other merchandise.
> 
> The Monty Python film is of course “Life of Brian”, first released in 1979, and one of the most successful British films of all time. The cinema in Sheffield is being cheeky putting it on around Easter time. (This is one of the few times I went with a film from the original book, as it's such a touchstone for Howard in “The Mighty Boosh”). 
> 
> The Peak District national park is less than half an hour's drive from Sheffield. Howard is still worried his mother may be looking for a wealthy landowner from Derbyshire because she swooned over Mr Darcy in “Pride and Prejudice” (January chapter). Chatsworth House was the model for Pemberley, and about 20 minutes drive from the edge of the park. 
> 
> Pedigree Chum is tinned dog food, and Winalot is dog kibble. Both very cheap supermarket brands.


	5. May

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> RECAP: Teenage intellectual jazz poet and aspiring slap-bass guitarist, Howard Moon, has to navigate the stormy waters of puberty, even though his friend Vince has abandoned him to join a gang, his mother has gone to Sheffield to work in insurance, and he is being bullied. 
> 
> THIS MONTH: Howard turns fourteen, but his birthday party is a shambles when Vince tries to help. Will Howard be able to forgive him by Vince's birthday? Howard receives assistance from an unexpected quarter and uncovers a family tragedy in the process, but must carefully consider his future as the end of term approaches.

**Friday 1st**   
_May Day_

Nana rang early this morning to tell me to "cast ne'er a clout 'til May be out". She does this every year. It's something to do with not taking your vest off until June, but I never take my vest off anyway.

Lester sent a birthday card to the school, since he doesn't know my address. The card had a picture of an Alsatian on the front, and inside Lester had written in shaky writing, _Hip Happening Birthday, groovie cat! Real gone daddy-o, Lester and Sabre. PS_ _Drain blocked up._ Inside was a book voucher from Foyles. It expired in 1958, but it was a kind thought.

I am pleased to report that Barry Kent and his gang have been banned from the Off The Street Youth Club (but this means they are now _on_ the street, worse luck). They filled a French letter with water and threw it around until it eventually broke and left water all over the floor. Bob Fossil slipped in it, and got dirty marks on his pale blue safari suit. He was dead mad. Bollo and Vince helped Bob Fossil throw Barry Kent and his gang out. Vince looked dead fierce. I never saw him get angry before, his eyes turn the brightest blue you can imagine and his cheekbones stand out more than ever, and get a red patch on them. I expect he and Bollo will receive bravery medals for this.

As Leroy and I were leaving the youth club, Leroy shouted out, "Don't forget it's Howard's birthday on Monday, everyone!". I was embarrassed, but Vince came over and asked if I was having a birthday party. I said not really, but that he and Leroy could come round for tea if they wanted. Vince chewed his lip, and then asked if Bollo and the gang could come too. I said alright.

That's sounding like a party now, and the house is a mess. Feel a bit worried about the gang coming round. Don't know what Dad will say.

**Saturday 2nd**

When the post came today, I got a card from Grandma and Grandad Sugden with one euro inside (hey, big spender!). There was a card from Mum, saying she wishes she could be there for my birthday, and fifteen euros. This is conscience money. I can't believe she won't be here for my birthday! Nothing from Auntie Susan, or Uncle Terry. Typical!

I got a card from Leroy. On the front it said, _This card is only for someone very handsome, sexy, and charming._ Inside it said, _I must have bought this for you by mistake!_ Leroy wrote, _No offence mate. Happy birthday_. He enclosed €0.10.

Still haven't told Dad about the gang coming for my birthday. He's not in a good mood.

**Sunday 3rd**   
_Second After Easter_

Dad and I went to Wakefield to have tea with Nana and Grandpa. Nana made me a really nice cake with my name written on it in pink icing, and she and Grandpa had a card for me, and a present which turned out to be _A Boy's Book of Polar Explorers_. It's dead nice, all leather bound with gold writing on it and coloured illustrations. I'm reading about the doomed expedition of “Biggy” Shackleton right now.

While we we eating, and I was showing Dad the book (I wouldn't let him touch it because he had chocolatety fingers), I asked if I could have a birthday party with a few friends round. Dad looked annoyed, but then Nana and Grandpa said they would love to help with the party, so Dad said “Oh, alright then”.

**Monday 4th**   
_Bank Holiday. New Moon._

I am fourteen today! Had a good look at myself in the mirror this morning, and I thought I detected a certain maturity. I think I could pass for fifteen, or even fifteen and a half if the light was dim. Dad gave me a pork pie hat and a copy of Miles Davis' _In a_ _Silent Way_.

Nana and Grandpa came over early. Instead of telling us off for letting the house get so messy, Nana just said, “This place needs a woman's touch, doesn't it?”. She started cleaning and tidying, so Dad and I had to join and help her. Grandpa read the papers.

Nana made some incredible food for the party. Sausage rolls, sandwiches, jam tarts, iced biscuits, fairy cakes, and a big birthday cake. I kept telling her she was making too much food, but she said that we would all have good appetites from playing games in the garden.

I don't know what games she thought we were going to be playing. I'm fourteen, not four! Besides, only about three people fit in our garden at one time. Dad said we should play music so people could dance, and he got out all his Herbie Hancock records.

Everyone seemed to turn up at once. There were loads more people than just Leroy, Vince, and Bollo's gang. There were kids from school I hardly knew, and everyone who goes to the Youth Club. Only Nana was undismayed. She kept bringing out more food, and saying, “See, Howard? Good thing I made a little bit extra, isn't it?”.

Nobody really did anything, they just sat around as if waiting for something to happen. Finally someone said, “Look, when's it going to get here?”. I asked what he meant, and he said, “The bouncy castle. Vince said there'd be a bouncy castle”.

I asked Vince what he was playing at – we don't even have _room_ for a bouncy castle! Vince looked dead guilty, and said he wanted everyone to come to my party, and they'd only come if there was a bouncy castle. Once they realised there wasn't a bouncy castle, everyone left. One girl spat at me as she went, and a boy kicked me in the shins. Luckily he'd taken his shoes off, ready for the bouncy castle.

Vince kept saying he was sorry and everything got out of control, but I don't think I can be friends with him any more. All I wanted was for him and Leroy to come over for crisps and fizzy drink, and have a laugh. Instead he ruined my birthday. The house is a terrible mess again. I am in so much trouble with Dad.

After everyone had left, I found my present from Vince. It was a homemade bookmark, with a picture of a trumpet on it, covered in sparkly stuff. He made the card himself too: it showed us jumping on a bouncy castle together. I struggled not to tear it up in a rage, because that would be childish, and I am fourteen now. But I don't know what he was thinking.

To be fair, it was a dead good picture.

**Tuesday 5th**

Went to Lester's before school to unblock his drain. There were years of old bones, grease and fat down there, plus some sort of muck that Lester says is green tea leaves. I cleaned it out, and told Lester not to throw food scraps down the sink any more, and to switch to tea bags for herbal teas. He really needs a home help!

I have reached a new level of unpopularity at school, due to the bouncy castle disaster. Even Leroy doesn't seem keen to hang around me, because of all the insults (and worse) that get hurled at me. Vince looks upset, but he isn't allowed to talk to me at school, because of the stupid gang.

Dad and I got a letter from Mum saying that she is coming for the weekend on Saturday. Dad looked pleased, and immediately started cleaning rubbish out of the lounge. He went mad doing housework until 2 am, and it's only Tuesday!

**Wednesday 6th**

I am proud to report that I have been made a school-dinner monitor. My duties are to stand at the side of the pig bin and make sure that my fellow pupils scrape their plates properly. If I cannot be popular, at least I can make people respect me.

**Thursday 7th**

Lester Corncrake rang the school to ask me to call round urgently. Mr Bainbridge told me off. He said the school telephone was not for the convenience of the pupils. Get stuffed Bainbridge, you wobble-cheeked git!!!!

Lester was in a terrible state when I came round after school. He has lost his false teeth. He has had them since 1946, and they have great sentimental value, because they used to belong to his father. He inherited them when his father died. I looked everywhere, but couldn't find them.

I went to the shops and bought him a tin of soup and a packet of Butterscotch Instant Whip, it's all he can manage at the moment. I have promised to come round tomorrow and look again. Sabre was happy for once. He was chewing a toy in his kennel.

My father is still cleaning the house. Leroy commented on how shiny the kitchen floor looked. He told me not to worry about the bouncy castle incident. He said everyone will soon forget about it. I bitterly said I never would.

**Friday 8th**

Found Lester's teeth in Sabre's kennel. Lester rinsed them under a tap and put them back in his mouth! This is the most revolting thing I have ever seen.

My father can't find anything else to clean, so he has gone out and bought bunches and bunches of flowers, which he has put all over the house. They are to welcome my mother home. Dad doesn't understand this isn't her home any longer.

Mr Lucas' house has been sold at last. I saw the estate agent's minion putting the board up. I hope the new people are respectable.

I am reading _The Call of the Wild_ by Jack London. It is brilliant. There is something about the wild north, the Arctic tundra which attracts me. Tried to teach the dog to pull a cardboard sled, but it was useless.

**Saturday 9th**

We picked Mum up from the train station this morning. She hugged and kissed both of us, but she didn't cry this time. She complimented Dad on how clean and tidy the house looked when we got home, and kept saying, “All these flowers! They must have cost a fortune, George”.

I showed Mum the improvements I've made to Stationery Village, and the Geography test I got 20/20 for, and said how Lester and I both like jazz. She asked how my birthday went, and I told her that Vince ruined it. My mother shrieked with laughter, I regret to report, especially when I showed her the birthday card. She said that Vince meant well, but went about it in the wrong way, and that she doesn't think he exactly lied, but really believed it at the time. I said he must be a mental case then, and Mum said no, he has a very active imagination, and always hopes for the best.

Dad said how about we have a nosh up and grab a flick? Honestly, adults are always telling us to speak clearly, and then they come up with gibberish like this! But what it meant was that we took the bus into town to have tea and go to the cinema.

We saw _Gregory's Girl_ at The Odeon. It was a dead good Scottish film about a boy who tries to go out with a girl on his football team (note: Mr Jones would never let girls play football). It was really funny, but kept sort of hurting inside too. It seems as if I will never get to go out with a girl, unless she already secretly likes me. I don't think anyone in my class secretly likes me.

When we came out it was late, so Mum said let's get a taxi. We all sat in the back seat together, and Mum and Dad held hands across my lap. Mum asked if I liked the look of Scotland. I said it looked like a dump.

**Sunday 10th**   
_Third After Easter. Mother's Day, USA and Canada. Moon's First Quarter._

We took Mum to the train station at 4.30 pm, and ever since she left I think I've been depressed. I hate only having a mum for one weekend a month.

At 6 pm there was a hailstorm, and I sat at my bedroom window, watching the ice hit the ground until our lawn looked like the Arctic tundra.

**Monday 11th**

Got a card and present from my Auntie Susan, a week late! She always forgets the right day. Dad says she's under a lot of pressure because of her job at Holloway, but it sounds dead cushy to me. All she has to do is lock and unlock doors so the prisoners can go in and out of their cells. Being a prison warder can't be that difficult.

The present was a toothbrush holder made by one of the prisoners on D Wing. Auntie Susan said she is in for arson, but has been rehabilitated now and will be out on parole soon. She is the best in the D Wing pottery class.

Had to give Barry Kent several euros in menaces money today. I paid him out of my birthday money. If it ever gets out that Barry Kent has been blackmailing me, I will cut my throat. The shame would be too much to bear.

**Tuesday 12th**

Had a long talk with Mr Vann the Careers teacher today. He asked what I wanted to do when I left school, and I said either the greatest slap-bass guitarist in the world, or an intellectual jazz poet. Mr Vann asked if I had any more practical goals, and I said I'd also considered becoming a famous globe-trotting photographer.

I feel as if I am at a crossroads in my life, where I must choose the right O Levels or my entire life will be ruined. I asked Mr Vann which O levels you need to write situation comedy for television. Mr Vann said that you don’t need qualifications at all, you just need to be a moron.

**Wednesday 13th**

Had an in depth talk about O Levels with my father. He advised me to only do the subjects I am good at. He said many of the great jazz guitarists didn't do any O Levels at all. I asked Dad what qualifications I'd need to become a zookeeper. He said it would be mostly on-the-job training. I am rethinking my career prospects.

I wouldn't mind being a polar explorer, but there's not much call for them in England.

**Thursday 14th**

We are studying _Hamlet_ in English class. Miss Sproxton chose me to act out a scene from the play, but unfortunately something went wrong. I got up in front of the class, and then I sort of froze. I tried to speak, but nothing came out.

Miss Sproxton said, “Ah! You have the chokes, my dear boy. Poor child, you will never be an actor”. I am determined that one day I _will_ be an actor, and prove Miss Sproxton wrong!

**Friday 15th**

We got our essays back today, and Miss Sproxton gave me full marks for mine. She wrote on it, _You may not be able to act, dear boy, but you can certainly write. You have a gift for psychological insight far beyond your years._ She was impressed with how vividly I was able to convey Hamlet's rage and disappointment with his mother, while also longing for her, and the ambiguity of his feelings for women in general.

**Saturday 16th**

Dad and I have to spend the whole weekend in Wakefield with Nana and Grandpa. Nana is convinced we are starving to death. She rang up last night and asked what we were having for tea, and Dad said baked beans on toast. She asked what we had for tea the night before, and he said sardines on toast. Dad tried to tell her that beans and sardines are both excellent sources of nutrition, but Nana got a bit hysterical.

When we got there, we had to go shopping with Nana and Grandpa. They don't go to Budgens, they shop at Sainsbury's. I must admit, you get a better class of shopper there. Not like the slobs in Budgens. Nana insisted on supervising everything that Dad bought. He had to buy bags and bags of food to prove that we do eat properly.

Nana is dead fierce when she shops. Nobody is allowed to get in the way of her trolley, and she watches the scales like a hawk on a mouse. She accused the shop assistant of giving her underweight bacon. They looked dead scared, and gave her an extra slice for free.

Grandpa isn't exactly fierce like Nana, but he has a distant cold stare, which he gives from his great height. It's quite intimidating.

**Sunday 17th**

We had to get up early to go to church with Nana and Grandpa. Nana made Dad comb his hair, and Grandpa forced him to put on a tie. We sat between Nana and Grandpa, and they held our arms and looked proud to be with us. The church service was dead boring. The vicar looked like the oldest man in the world, and spoke in a feeble voice. My father kept sitting down when he was supposed to stand up, and vice versa. I copied my grandparents, they always know what to do. My father sang all the hymns too loudly so everyone looked at him. I shook the vicar's hand when we left. It felt like touching dead leaves.

After dinner, we listened to the Beethoven concert on the radio, then Dad and I washed up while Nana and Grandpa had a sleep. Dad broke a milk jug, so he said how about we go home, and leave them a note? We took our endless bags of shopping, and drove back, feeling as if we were escaping the scene of a crime. The dog almost gave us away by starting to whimper, but I put its leash on and shoved it into the back seat of the car. Dad went to the pub when we got home.

I went to see Lester Corncrake, but he wasn't in, so I walked over to the allotments to see Mrs Pelham's goat instead. She looked pleased to see me. It must be boring spending all day in a little pen. No wonder she likes visitors.

**Monday 18th**

Told my father about being blackmailed today. I was forced to, because Barry Kent seriously damaged my school blazer and tore my school badge off.

Dad asked if I had really been scared of Barry Kent telling him I had looked at Vince in class? I nodded, and Dad said, “Howard, I can see for myself that you spend every lesson staring at Vince. Did you think I would be angry with you for liking boys?”. I nodded, and he said, “Howard, my _sister_ is gay. It hasn't changed how I feel about her, and it wouldn't change how I feel about you”.

I said that Auntie Susan doesn't look gay, and Dad said I didn't either. He asked if I really liked boys, or just Vince. He seemed to think liking Vince didn't necessarily make you gay. I said I had looked at men in films and magazines, but also women, and I sort of liked a female librarian. He said it doesn't matter who I like, he and Mum will love me exactly the same, and I've got years to sort it out for myself.

My father is going to speak to Barry Kent tomorrow, and demand all my money back, so I could be quite rich soon!

**Tuesday 19th**   
_Full Moon_

Barry Kent denied all knowledge of menacing me, and laughed when Dad asked him to repay the money he had extorted from me. Dad asked me to come with him to Mr Bainbridge's office, and tell him exactly what Barry Kent has been up to.

I was scared, but I told him everything I could think of. Mr Bainbridge listened with a sceptical look on his face, and then he said, “Homosexuality is the most repulsive practice in the world, Moon”. Dad said, “Worse than bullying?”. Mr Bainbridge said, “A bit of boyish horseplay is far better for a school than buggery”.

Mr Bainbridge said, “If you aren't a homosexual, Moon, why would Kent have said you were?”. I thought for a moment, then I said, “It probably seemed like something stupid people would easily believe, sir”. Dad gave me an impressed look, as if I'd scored a point.

In the end, wobble-cheeks Bainbridge said there was no proof that Barry Kent had done anything at all, and even if he had, it sounded like healthy high spirits to him, especially if it was done out of a natural disgust for homosexual practices. In his experience, so-called bullying was usually done to students who deserved it in some way, and needed to be brought into line.

As we left Mr Bainbridge's office, Dad said in an angry voice, “Howard, our headmaster is … an arse!”. My father went to see Barry Kent's father, and had a serious argument with him, and threatened to call the police. I think my father is dead brave. Barry Kent's father is huge and frightening. The police said they couldn't do anything without evidence.

Dad came home looking defeated. He put his arm around me, and said, “Howard, I'm sorry. I've failed to protect you”. I said society was to blame. He said, “Bugger society”.

**Wednesday 20th**

Barry Kent duffed me up in the cloakroom today. He called me a copper's nark, and other things too bad to write down. My grandparents came to see us after school – Nana was going to give Dad a telling off about the milk jug he broke. But when they saw me all battered and bruised, they asked what had happened.

Dad didn't want to tell them what had been going on (Grandpa has high blood pressure, and Nana is rheumatic), but they insisted on knowing everything. They listened to all I said, then they looked at each other, and Nana thinned her lips. Grandpa said, “Now, lass”, and they left in their car.

They were gone for one hour and seven minutes. Dad and I feared for their lives the whole time. When they got back, Nana handed me €27.18, and Grandpa said, “He won't bother you again, Howard. But if he does, let us know and we'll handle it”.

They had brought food with them, and made tea for us: pilchards, tomatoes, and parkin. As we were eating it, Nana said, “Howard, you are our grandson. It doesn't matter to us whether you like boys, girls, both, or neither. Never be daft enough to think it means we aren't fond of you”. “Yes, lass”, Grandpa added. Then Nana said, “Now, George. I'd had that milk jug for more than forty years before you got hold of it, you cack-handed barmpot!”.

I bought Nana and Grandpa a box of chocolates from the chemist as a token of my esteem.

**Thursday 21st**

It is Vince's birthday today. I couldn't talk to him because of the stupid gang, but I left his card and present in his bag in the cloak room. I know which bag is his – it's covered in stickers and badges, and pictures he's drawn himself in gold marker pen.

I gave him a leather bracelet I bought when we went shopping in Wakefield. It is stamped with a picture of a unicorn on it, and has a tie with beads on to do it up with. I asked the shop keeper if a boy could wear it, and she said definitely, it was for anyone who liked it. I asked if it was okay for a boy to give to another boy who's a friend, and she smiled, and said of course. She put nice wrapping paper on it for me.

It's funny, but I don't really care any more if someone finds out I gave Vince a card and a present. I asked Dad why my grandparents made a point of saying they cared for me whether I liked boys or girls, and Dad said it might be because of Uncle Cedric. The police said that he killed himself by jumping on the train tracks, but Dad said that the family always believed he had been thrown there by people who thought Uncle Cedric was gay. He had no reason to kill himself. This is news to me – they told me Uncle Cedric died in a railway accident.

I asked Dad if Uncle Cedric was gay, and he said he didn't know. He said Uncle Cedric was handsome and popular, and always had lots of girls to go out dancing with and so on, but never had a girlfriend. But if he had boyfriends, he kept it a secret. Maybe he kept his girlfriends secret, we don't know. After Uncle Cedric was killed, Auntie Susan came right out and told Nana and Grandpa she was gay. They were worried people would hurt her too, but Auntie Susan said it's a bit different in London.

Have been trying to get to sleep but can't. Keep thinking about Uncle Cedric, and wondering if he was gay, and how he died. I keep thinking about me, and Vince, and Auntie Susan, and wondering if we are really safe, and if London is different enough.

**Friday 22nd**

It is all round the school that an old lady of seventy-six and an old man of eighty-one frightened Barry Kent and his dad into returning my menaces money. Barry Kent daren’t show his face. His gang are electing a new leader.

**Saturday 23rd**

Leroy came round this afternoon and asked if I wanted to go to Vince's birthday party. He's having it at the roller skating rink. I said Vince hadn't asked me, but Leroy said, “He wants you to come, you berk. He thinks you've still got the hump with him”. I asked what I was meant to wear to a roller skating party, and he said whatever you want. Leroy had on white jeans and a red tee-shirt, so I went upstairs and put on my new blue jeans and a white tee-shirt. Then I grabbed my skates and we headed to the bus stop.

It seemed as if the whole school had come to Vince's party. We couldn't even see Vince at first, so Leroy and I put our skates on and skated around together for a while. Then I saw Vince. He was wearing gold satin running shorts, a black sleeveless vest, black knee socks, and the leather bracelet I bought him. His hair was filled with stuff to make it stick up, and he'd finally got his ear pierced properly with a gold ring. He was skating with Bollo and the punk girl in the gang. Vince is a really good skater, really fast.

He waved to us, and then Bollo went off somewhere, and Leroy started skating with the punk girl (I think her name is Claire). Vince grinned at me, and then we were skating around together to _Hell on Wheels_. Vince said, “Come on, Howard. Faster!”. He took my hand, and pulled me along. I never did tell Vince that boys don't hold hands, and I wasn't going to say it at his birthday party.

Afterwards we clumped over to the coffee bar, and I got us a Coke each. Vince said thanks for coming, and thanks for the bracelet. I said thanks for the bookmark he made me. Vince said sorry for ruining my party, and I said that's alright. We both kept looking into the bottom of our drinks, and then Vince said it was good I wasn't getting menaced by Barry Kent any more, and I said yeah, and then I looked at Vince's legs. They are skinny and white, and he has a scab on one knee. I forced myself not to look at his thighs.

Vince asked if I wanted to dance, but I shook my head. I said I'd watch. So I hung on to the barrier and watched Vince dance with Leroy, Bollo, and Claire to _Born to the Alive_. I enjoyed watching more than I would have dancing. Vince is a really good dancer, and did the splits all the way down the rink. Probably everyone looked at his thighs then. I think I am friends with Vince again.

**Sunday 24th**   
_Rogation Sunday_

I have made my career choice, and decided to become a poet. My father argued there isn't a suitable career structure for poets and no pension plan and other boring things, but I have made my mind up. Dad wants me to become a computer operator, but I said, “I need to put my soul into my work, and computers don't have a soul”. My father said the Americans are working on it.

**Monday 25th**   
_Bank Holiday_

I have told my father I need to have my bedroom painted. I am fourteen now, and far too old to have Rupert the Bear wallpaper! Dad asked what colour I wanted, and I said brown. It is a colour I like.

Dad and I went down to the DIY centre to buy everything we needed and pick out the paint. I never knew there were so many shades of brown! I contemplated Profound Muffin, Angry Beige, Aggressive Nutmeg, Inside a Coffee Bean, Umber Rumba, Cocoa Chanel, Burnt Walnut, Raw Sand, Tan You With Leather, Brown Sugar, Chocolate Poured Over Vanilla, Tawny Owl, and Wet Beaver, before eventually selecting Norwegian Wood. It is a sort of smoky grey-brown, and seems like a very calming colour.

We started stripping the wallpaper as soon as we got home. At first it seemed like it would come off very easily, but then it got harder and we had to put hot wet sponges on before pulling. It's really hard work, but we finally finished.

**Tuesday 26th**   
_Moon's Last Quarter_

First coat of brown paint. Brown paw marks on landing and stairs. Can't get paint off hands. Hairs falling out of brush. Brown paint everywhere. Fed up with the whole thing. My father says it needs a second coat!

**Wednesday 27th**

Second coat is an improvement, but there's still some bits that didn't get painted properly.

**Thursday 28th**   
_Ascension Day_

Finished the last brush stroke at 11.25 pm. Feel like whoever it was that painted the Sistine Chapel, wherever that is. Dad now says we have to clean up and put the room back the way it was. I bet that didn't happen to the Sistine Chapel bloke.

 _2 am:_ Finally got to bed. Every part of me aches.

**Friday 29th**

I got a message from the school to call around urgently to see Lester Corncrake. When I got there, I asked what was the emergency, and he said, “I'm not sure, but I think I turned ninety today”. I gave him ninety gentle bumps, and then we listened to jazz together.

**Saturday 30th**

I bought a joss stick from Mr Singh's shop. I lit it in my room to try and get rid of the paint smell. My father came into my room and asked if I was using drugs. I said I wasn't. Dad said it was alright, he was cool. He sat on my bed as if waiting for me to take drugs. After a while he looked disappointed and left.

I went over to Lester Corncrake's to give him a late birthday card. He was having one of those days where he seems to be deaf as well as blind, so I came home and watched _The Hardy Boys_. Had tea, did Geography homework, got ready for bed. I'm letting the dog sleep with me at the moment, it seems lonely.

**Sunday 31st**   
_Sunday after Ascension_

I can't find anything to eat, except stale bread in the bread bin. All our shopping seems to be used up, and Dad isn't here to do more of it. He's gone to the pub.

I was forced to catch a bus to Wakefield to see my grandparents before I died of malnutrition. They seemed quite pleased to see me. At four o'clock I had one of those rare moments of happiness I will remember all my life. I was sitting in front of the electric coal fire eating dripping toast and reading _The News of the World_. There was a good quiz on Radio Four, Nana and Grandpa had gone to sleep, and the dog was being quiet. All at once I felt this dead good feeling.

Perhaps I am turning religious. I think I have got it in me to be a saint of some kind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Cast ne'er a clout till May be out” is an old piece of English folk wisdom, reminding people to stay wrapped up warm until May is over, due to the uncertainty of English spring weather. 
> 
> Foyles: bookseller founded in 1903. In the past, it was infamous for its eccentric and infuriating business practices, so odd that it became a tourist attraction. At one point, its flagship store in Charing Cross Road, London, was the largest bookstore in the world. Not only is the voucher 23 years out of date, Foyles don't seem to have ever had a store in Leeds, so that Howard would have needed to go to London to claim his “free book”. 
> 
> French letter: British slang for a condom. 
> 
> Howard reads “The Call of the Wild” by Jack London (1903), and “The Tragedy of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark”, a play by William Shakespeare (1603). “A Boy's Book of Polar Explorers” is fictional, but typical of 20th century gift books with gendered titles.
> 
> “Gregory's Girl”, a 1981 Scottish romantic comedy drama about an awkward teenage boy and his clumsy attempts to attract the lone girl on the school football team. Highly recommended viewing if you like sweet, quirky, yet heartfelt and realistic films with almost Pythonesque humour (the US version is sadly dubbed so you can't hear the Scottish accents). Howard thinks that Scotland looks like a “dump” because the film was one of the first to be set in a (fictional) modern Scottish town filled with new estates, rather than the Highland panoramas that were previously common for Scottish films. The town actually looks rather sunny and idyllic on film. 
> 
> Howard's Auntie Susan works at HM Prison Holloway in an inner-city London suburb. It opened in 1852 as a mixed-sex prison, but became female-only (including young offenders) in 1903. It only had female prison warders until 1991, and closed in 2016. The most famous inmate in Auntie Susan's time would have been serial killer Myra Hindley, incarcerated since 1967. Sorry Susan has such a cliche job for a lesbian, but in times when people felt compelled to remain in the closet, joining cliched gay things was the most obvious way to meet other gay people and form gay communities. 
> 
> copper's nark: British slang for a police informant, but in this case used for anyone who goes to the police to report a crime. 
> 
> Howard was meant to give Barry Kent €0.25 per day (did this include weekends and holidays?), so I'm not sure how he ended up with €27.18 – where did the random €0.18 come from? Maybe the senior Moons forced the Kents to hand over all the cash they had in the house, or perhaps Howard was underpaying him – he did seem to be almost permanently behind in his payments, poor kid.
> 
> cack-handed barmpot: Yorkshire slang for clumsy idiot.
> 
> Howard's Uncle Cedric was mentioned in the radio show as having been killed by an angry mob because he was too handsome. It almost sounded like a veiled allusion to a gay hate crime, although I've left Uncle Cedric's sexual orientation and cause of death open. It sounded as if the Moon family already suspected Cedric was gay, but had a “don't ask, don't tell” approach which they deeply regretted when he was killed, and which prompted Susan to immediately come out. 
> 
> I can't identify the roller skating rink where Vince has his birthday, and it may be entirely fictional. Rinks seemed to pop up and almost immediately go out of business in the 1970s and early 1980s, until they were rescued by the roller disco craze. They skate to “Hell on Wheels” by Cher (1979) and “Born to be Alive” by Patrick Hernandez (1979). 
> 
> bumps: a British/Commonwealth birthday custom of holding people up by the arms and legs and “bumping” them to the floor, once for every year of their birth. Because Lester is elderly, and Howard can't lift him by himself, the “gentle bumps” might have been ninety hugs or squeezes, or head pats, or holding hands and lifting them, or some other affectionate substitution.
> 
> joss stick: an Indian incense stick.
> 
> “The Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew Mysteries” were on BBC One at 5.10 pm on Saturday 30th May. It was a Christmas mystery, with a burglar dressed as Santa Claus. 
> 
> The “News of the World” was a weekly Sunday newspaper founded in 1843. It tended to publish celebrity gossip, populist news, sensationalist crime stories, and sex scandals. A conservative paper, it was at one time the highest-selling English-language newspaper in the world. Bought by Rupert Murdoch in 1969, it closed down in 2011, due to being embroiled in a scandal of its own (phone hacking). 
> 
> The “good quiz” was Denmark vs England in “Round Europe Quiz 1981” on Radio Four. Sandi Toksvig's father was on the Danish panel.


	6. June

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's teen rebellion, teen love, and a hot time between the sheets for Howard this month. Not to mention a lot of worry over Lester.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the Booshlrs Shaman Council for their assistance when I needed help with a drug reference. Everyone made excellent suggestions, and we all learned a lot about the long and surprising history of beer bongs, but in the end I went with Ladadee195's contribution.

**Monday 1st**   
_Bank Holiday in the Rep. of Ireland_

I got ready for school this morning, and found Dad was still in bed. He looked awful – really sick, and he kept moaning that his head was killing him, and he was dying. I told him he was only hungover, and he had to get up and get ready for work. I said I'd make him breakfast, but that only made him moan louder.

I asked him if I should phone Dr Grey, but Dad shook his head violently, and said in a hoarse voice, “Call this”, handing me a piece off paper. It said SABOO and then a phone number. I asked if that was an acronym or a witch doctor, but Dad only groaned. I phoned the number, and a cross sort of voice asked what I wanted. I explained about Dad, and they said, “Oh for pity's sake”, but did say they would come round straight away and “sort George out”. Then they muttered something about “the crunch” and hung up without saying goodbye.

I rang the school secretary and said Dad was ill and wouldn't be able to work today, and that I had to stay home and take care of him. She said, “Oh dear” in a flustered way, so I suggested she ring Ms Elf to take Dad's classes. “She is an excellent supply teacher”, I lied.

I made Dad some hot, sweet tea for shock, and then there was a knock at the door. It was a strange-looking man with dark skin, a tiny beard, and very curly hair, wearing a big black coat trimmed with what looked like crow's feathers, and a black hat. With him was a little boy with blond hair, big blue eyes, and an unmistakable air of pure malevolent evil. The man in black said he was Saboo, from The Man Council, and the boy was Kirk, Dennis' kid. “I got stuck babysitting yet again”, he complained.

I asked if Kirk shouldn't be at school, he looks at least six, but Saboo just said, “Shouldn't _you_ be at school?”. I pointed the way upstairs, and then Saboo and Kirk went into Dad's room. I couldn't think what else to do, so I went to Budgens to do the shopping, came home, unpacked, made everyone (even Kirk!) a cup of tea which I left outside the door, then cooked spaghetti for lunch and took that upstairs as well before eating mine and washing up.

Saboo and Kirk left at 1.30 pm, Saboo saying they had given Dad an antidote, and to let him sleep it off. He said they would be back tomorrow to check on him. Saboo has a strange way of referring to himself and Kirk as “we”, a bit like some people with their dogs. He didn't thank me for lunch or the tea.

**Tuesday 2nd**   
_New Moon_

Dad slept all yesterday. Saboo and Kirk came over first thing in the morning, and spent about an hour with Dad. I phoned the school secretary and said Dad was still sick, and had seen a doctor. Saboo and Kirk left, saying Dad was awake now, but that he should stay in bed until lunch time.

I brought Dad a cup of tea, and he looked pale and worn-out, but not as bad as before. I asked Dad what was wrong, and he said he ate something that disagreed with him. He got up for lunch, then sat around the lounge room in his dressing gown. I think my father may be depressed.

**Wednesday 3rd**

Dad and I both went to school today. I couldn't concentrate. I kept worrying about Dad, and thinking about Saboo. He is dead good-looking, it is a shame he is so bad-tempered and rude. He has a lovely mouth.

When we got home from school, I tried to think of something to cheer Dad up, so I made jam biscuits. We did them in Domestic Science at school once. Dad said I am just like Nana, using food to fix every problem. He did eat the biscuits though. He said I am not stingy with the jam.

**Thursday 4th**

My mother rang first thing this morning, and said she hadn't received a letter from my father in weeks. I told her I thought my father was having a breakdown, as he had been drinking heavily and generally letting himself go. Then I went to school. I was feeling rebellious, so I wore red socks. It is strictly forbidden but I don't care any more.

**Friday 5th**

Miss Sproxton spotted my red socks in assembly! The old bag reported me to wobble-cheeks Bainbridge. He had me in his office, and gave me a lecture on the dangers of being a nonconformist. Then he called Dad to his office, and said, “Moon, this is the third or fourth time I've had to discipline your son this term, and I'm getting tired of it. He doesn't want to play by the rules, and that seems to be something he's learned from you. Take him home, and make him change into regulation black socks”.

Dad instantly turned into a raving loony! He shouted at Bainbridge and said he was victimising me, and that he must be pleased to have finally found a reason to do so. Bainbridge said if I'd just change into black socks that would be the end of the matter, but Dad said I could wear any colour socks I liked to express my individuality. Bainbridge said he only wanted to uphold the standards of the school.

Bainbridge had to attend a caretakers' strike-meeting, so he told me to go home and change. My father told me to go home, but not to change. Bainbridge said if I didn't change, I wouldn't be allowed to return to school. I went home, and haven't changed my socks or gone back to school.

This might well get into the papers. 'Red Socks Row at Local School'. My mother might read it and come home as a gesture of family solidarity.

**Saturday 6th**

Vince came round to my house today! He stood on the front porch and said he was so impressed I'd used fashion to make a statement, he said everyone is talking about it at school! I would have asked him in, but the house was in a squalid state. He invited me to join Bollo's gang, and wants to me go round to Mrs Pelham's house tomorrow morning. Vince asked if he could see the red socks, but I told him they were in the wash.

My grandparents are coming to tea tonight, so we have to clean up the house.

**Sunday June 7th**   
_Whit Sunday_

Last night I told Nana that Dad had been ill, so she said she would change the sheets on his bed. I helped her, but then she found a plastic bag filled with the same green tea Lester has underneath the pillow. I told her they were herbs Dad uses to sleep better. I am not a good liar, and I could feel my face turning bright red, while Nana's eyes bored into me like a laser beam. To distract her, I told her about the red socks incident, but she said rules were made to be kept.

When I went round this morning, Vince and the rest of the gang were sitting in Mrs Pelham's small lounge. There weren't enough chairs, so people shared or sat on the floor. There was Vince, Bollo Thomas, Bollo's cousin Chinquo Thomas, who is the biggest first year I have ever seen, and Vince's friend Claire Neilson, only on weekends she is a punk and likes to be called Neon. Leroy is in the gang now too, I wonder when he joined?

Mrs Pelham brought in a tray of coffee and chocolate biscuits for us. She is a big, comfortable-looking woman, and one of those old women who try to look young. She has dyed red hair and a lot of make-up, and was wearing a bright pink floral dress with a lime green crocheted cardigan, and jewellery that jangled when she walked. Nana would say Mrs Pelham is mutton dressed up as lamb, but I think she looks cheerful.

Vince introduced us, and Mrs Pelham said she admired the stand I was taking. She likened me to the Tolpuddle Martyrs, and asked if there was any significance to me choosing red socks for my protest. I lied and said I chose red because it was a symbol of revolution, then I blushed revolutionary red. I am turning into quite the liar recently.

I sat squished into the same armchair as Vince, and said “Thank you, Mrs Pelham”, for the coffee and biscuits. She said, “Howard dearie, my name's Maud, but my friends call me Queenie, and I'm sure we're going to be friends eventually, so let's start now and not waste any time”. Queenie is very nice. She gave me a book to read called _The Road to Wigan Pier_. I have been to Wigan a couple of times, and look forward to reading how George Orwell's holiday there went.

We agreed to change the name of the gang to The Red Sock Brigade (Bollo against, Chinquo abstaining), and decided that we would all wear red socks to school tomorrow. “Yeah, because Howard shouldn't be protesting all on his own”, Vince said. “Fight the power!”, Queenie said encouragingly, waving her first. Bollo said he had a bad feeling about it.

Washed red socks, put them on radiator to dry ready for the morning.

**Monday 8th**   
_Whit Monday_

Woke up, dressed, put red socks on before pants or vest. Father wished me luck as I left for school. Felt like a hero. Met Vince and the rest of the Red Sock Brigade at the corner of our street; all of us were wearing red socks. Vince's were lurex. He has certainly got guts. We sang a song Vince and I wrote all the way to school. It went:

_Red socks, red socks,_   
_Brighter than a fox, stronger than an ox,_   
_They say red socks are too cool for school_   
_They say red socks break all the rules_   
_They won't listen to what we say_   
_But red socks are here to stay!_

I felt a bit scared when we walked through the gates, but Vince kept encouraging us by shouting things like, “Fight Bainbridge! We should be allowed to wear anything we like with our uniforms”. Claire shouted, “Yeah! Why can't girls wear trousers, and boys wear skirts if they want?”. Vince gave her an admiring look.

Wobble-cheeks Bainbridge must have been tipped off, because he was waiting in the fourth-year cloakroom. He was standing very still with his arms folded, his cheeks redder than our socks. He didn’t speak, he just nodded upstairs. All the red socks trooped upstairs. My heart was beating dead loud. He went silently into his office and sat at his desk and started tapping his teeth with a school pen. We just stood there.

He smiled in a horrible way then rang the bell on his desk. His secretary came in, he said, “Sit down and take a letter, Mrs Claricoates”.

The letter was to our parents, it said:

_Dear Mr and/or Mrs __________________,_

_It is my sad duty to inform you that your son/daughter/foster-child has deliberately flouted one of the rules of this school. I take an extremely serious view of this contravention. I am therefore suspending your son/daughter/foster-child for a period of one week. Young people today often lack sufficient moral guidance in the home, therefore I feel that it is my duty to take a firm stand in my school. If you wish to discuss the matter further with me do not hesitate to ring my secretary for an appointment._

_Your faithfully,_

_D.M. Bainbridge_   
_Headmaster_

Vince said, “You ain't being fair”, but Bainbridge roared at him to shut up! Even Mrs Claricoates jumped. Bainbridge said we could wait until the letters had been typed, duplicated, and signed, and then we had “better hot foot it out of school”. We waited outside Bainbridge's office. Vince got angry tears in his eyes, I put my arm around him a bit. Mrs Claricoates gave us our letters. She smiled very kindly, it can't be easy working for a despot.

I said everyone could come to my house if they wanted, because Mrs Pelham was hosting the Allotment Co-op meeting at Vince's house. The house was quite tidy for once, apart from the dog hair. Claire seemed a bit scared to go home, and Leroy said his dad was going to go mental. Despite his lack of enthusiasm for our protest, Bollo remained calm and did his best to cheer everyone up. I have to admit, he is a good gang leader.

My father went into a rage when he read the letter. He said he'd like to shove it up Bainbridge where the sun don't shine. I'm starting to wish I'd just worn black socks to school.

**Tuesday 9th**   
_Moon's First Quarter_

My father went to see Bainbridge today, and tried to get our suspensions overturned. He told Mr Bainbridge he was making a mountain out of a molehill, but Bainbridge said that obedience to petty commands strengthens our national backbone, and is what makes Britain great. My father is thinking of contacting our local MP to complain.

**Wednesday 10th**

Vince, Leroy, and Claire came over to spend the day with me. We played Truth or Dare, and Claire asked Vince if he liked anyone, but he would only whisper it in her ear. It made her laugh, though. Later on Claire said we should play Spin the Bottle with the pop bottle she'd finished drinking from. When she spun, it pointed at Vince, and she kissed him.

Claire looked over at me, and said, “Look how jealous Howard is. Don't worry, Howard – I'll kiss you as well”. She jumped on me before I had a chance to get away. It was my first kiss, and I should have paid more attention. I can't really remember much except her mouth was wet and sloppy and tasted of cigarettes. She is very aggressive for such a short girl.

Claire touched me between my legs, and said, “Nothing going on. Knew you were gay”, before going back to her seat.

“Kissing you would turn any bloke gay, Claire”, Leroy said.

“Why don't you just admit you want to kiss Vince?”, Claire said to me with a sly smile.

I felt my face turn bright red, and Vince gave me a funny sort of look, half-hopeful, half-scared. He came over to me, and I put my lips against his for a second. That's all I could manage, because my hands had gone sweaty and I had butterflies in my stomach.

Leroy sighed, and said, “Oh well, it was always going to happen”. Claire told him to dish the dirt on us, but Leroy said, “I'm saying nowt. It's their business, not ours”.

Vince kept looking at me and smiling.

**Thursday 11th**

Spent all day with Vince. Can't write, hands keep trembling.

**Friday 12th**

Had a message from the school to say Lester Corncrake wanted to see me urgently. Went round with Vince (we see each other every day). Lester is ill. He looked awful. Vince stayed with him while I phoned the doctor. I described Lester's symptoms. Funny breathing, white face, sweating.

We tried to tidy his bedroom up a bit. Lester kept saying stupid things that didn't make sense. Vince and I held Lester's hands until the doctor came. Dr Patel was quite kind, he said that Lester was delirious and needed oxygen, and rang for an ambulance. It seemed to take ages to come. I thought about how I had neglected Lester lately, and felt like a real rat fink.

The ambulancemen took Lester downstairs on a stretcher. He was wrapped in a big fluffy red blanket before he went outside. Then they shut him up in the ambulance, and he was sirened away. I had a big lump in my throat and my eyes were watering. It must have been caused by the dust.

Lester's house is very dusty. They never did give him the home help I asked for.

**Saturday 13th**   
_Queen's Birthday_

Lester is in intensive care, he can't have visitors. I ring up every four hours to find out how he is. I pretend to be a relative. The nurses say things like, “He is stable”.

Sabre is staying with us. Our dog is staying with my grandparents because it is scared of Alsatians.

I hope Lester doesn't die. Apart from liking him, I have nothing to wear to a funeral.

Things still good with Vince.

**Sunday 14th**   
_Trinity Sunday_

Went to see Lester, he's got tubes all over him. I took him some get well cards, one from me and Vince, one from my grandparents, one from my father, and one from Sabre. Lester was asleep, so I didn't stay long.

**Monday 15th**

The Red Sock Brigade has voted to change its name back to Bollo's Gang. We're not going to wear red socks to school, or Bainbridge will expel us, but Vince found a shop in town that will make badges for you. So now we all wear red badges pinned to our blazers instead. There's nothing in the uniform regulations against wearing badges, I checked. They look really cool. Everyone at school thinks we are dead hard for being suspended.

Lester has made a slight improvement. He is awake more. I will go round and see him tomorrow.

**Tuesday 16th**

Lester has only got a few tubes left in him now. He was awake when I went into his room. He didn't know it was me at first, because I was wearing a mask and gown, and it made my voice sound different. He thought I must be a doctor, and said, “Get these goddamn tubes out of me, you sawbones!”. But I said it was only me, and he asked how Sabre was. We had a long talk about Sabre's behaviour problems, then a nurse came in and said I had to go. Lester asked me to phone his daughters and tell them he is on his deathbed – they live in America! He gave me a big silver American coin to pay for the calls, and said the phone numbers are in the back of his old bank book.

My father says the coin is a half dollar, and the man on it is Benjamin Franklin. I am keeping it. It feels nice to hold, and will no doubt be a collector's piece one day.

**Wednesday 17th**   
_Full Moon_

After school, Vince and I searched Lester's house looking for his bank book. Vince found a pile of old magazines that were very indecent. They must have been from when Lester still had his sight, and when girls looked boyish, with flat chests and short hair – Vince said they were flappers, whatever that means.

One girl looked a bit like Vince, she was pretty and blonde and wearing a short black see-through nightgown. A man stood behind her with the nightgown pulled up, and I can't say what else. I felt a bit weird after looking through the magazines, and so did Vince. He was lying close to me while we read the magazines, and I could feel him against me. He could probably feel me, too. We had our first proper kiss. Vince has soft lips, and he tasted of strawberry bubblegum.

I wish I knew what to do with my tongue when I kiss. I wanted to ask Vince if I kiss better than Claire did, but don't want to sound jealous. I just worry I'm not a good kisser. If I could stop worrying during the kiss, it would help, I'm sure.

No sign of the bank book.

**Thursday 18th**   
_Corpus Christi_

Lester is now tubeless. He is being moved into an ordinary ward tomorrow. I told him I couldn't find the bank book. He said it doesn't matter now he knows he's not dying.

Vince came with me to the hospital tonight. He got on well with Lester, they talked about goats, and Lester gave Vince some tips on caring for them. Vince had brought Lester some violas grown in Queenie's allotment, which Lester said were lovesome things that smelt like stars. When Vince went to ask a nurse for a jar to arrange them in, Lester said that I had a real nice little girlfriend. I didn't know what to say, so I just said, “Thank you”.

**Friday 19th**

Lester is on a big ward filled with men with broken legs and bandaged chests. He looks a lot better now he has his teeth in. Some of the men whistled at Vince when he walked down the ward. I didn't like them doing that, but I must admit Vince was looking especially ravishing in pale blue jeans and a tight pink and yellow tee shirt. Queenie lets him wear make-up when he isn't at school, and he had on mascara and pink lipstick that made me think about kissing.

Vince gave the men the finger for perving on him, but he was wriggling his bum while he walked as if he liked it too. That made me think things as well. Before we left, Lester whispered to me that my girlfriend must be pretty if she got whistled at. I whispered back, “Yes”. I think Lester could feel the heat coming off my red face.

**Saturday 20th**

I hope Lester can come home soon. My father is fed up with Sabre, and my grandparents are sick to death of our dog.

Lester's consultant has told him to give up smoking but Lester says it is hardly worth it at the age of ninety. He asked me to buy him a packet of Gauloises and a box of matches. What should I do?

**Sunday 21st**   
_First after Trinity. Summer Solstice. Father's Day._

Couldn't sleep last night for worrying about the Gauloises. After much heart-searching, I decided it would be wrong to buy Lester cigarettes when he's been told to give up smoking. Then went to the hospital to find that Lester had bought his stinking fags from the hospital trolley!

Just measured my thing. It has grown two centimetres. I might be needing it soon.

**Monday 22nd**

Woke up with sore throat, couldn't swallow, tried to shout downstairs but could only manage a croak. Tried to attract my father's attention by banging on my bedroom floor with a school shoe, but he shouted at me to "Stop that bloody banging!". Eventually I sent the dog downstairs with a message tucked into its collar. I waited for ages, then I heard the dog barking in the street. It hadn't delivered my message! I was close to despair.

I had to get up to go to the toilet, but how I got there I don't know. It is all a hazy blur. I stood at the top of the stairs and croaked as loud as I could, but my father had a Frank Zappa record on, so I was forced to go downstairs and tell him I was ill. My father looked in my mouth and said, “Brian Christ, Howard, your tonsils look like Polaris missiles! What are you doing down here? Get back into bed at once”. He took my temperature: it was 112° Fahrenheit. By rights I should be dead.

It is now five minutes to midnight, the doctor is coming in the morning. I just pray that I can last out until then. Should the worst happen, I hereby leave all my worldly goods to Vince Noir of 69 Oak Street and appoint Terry Wogan at the BBC as my literary executor. I think I am of sound mind. It is hard to tell when you have a temperature of 112° Fahrenheit.

**Tuesday 23rd**

I have got tonsillitis. It is official. I am on antibiotics. Vince sits by my bed every day after school, letting me know of all the great and trivial events of the day. I wish he wouldn't, every word is like a rock dropping on my head.

**Wednesday 24th**

A get well card from my mother. Inside, a five euro note. I asked my father to spend it on Lucozade.

**Thursday 25th**   
_Moon's Last Quarter_

I have delirious dreams about Lady Diana Spencer, I dream that she is marrying me instead of Prince Charles, but then she turns into Vince, wearing a long white dress and a veil. I hope I am better in time for the wedding. Temperature is still 112° Fahrenheit.

My father can't cope with Sabre, so Vince has taken him home. (Taken Sabre home, not taken my father home). Sabre went with him like a tame lamb, his mad brown eyes filled with love and devotion. I wish Vince was taking me home with him instead.

**Friday 26th**

Doctor says our thermometer is faulty. I feel slightly better.

Got up for twenty minutes today. Watched _Playschool_ ; it was Johnny Ball today, he is my favourite presenter.

Vince brought me a get well card. He made it himself with crayons; it shows me in bed with a thermometer in my mouth, and Vince dressed as a sexy nurse. It's dead good. Inside he wrote, _sory yore sick howard hop you get well soon luv ya, vince xxxxxxxxxxx._

I wanted to kiss him, but I don't wish to pass this foul disease on to him. Besides, my lips are all cracked. I hope the kissing we did won't make Vince sick too, I could not bear the guilt.

**Saturday 27th**

I fell asleep this morning wondering why my mother hadn't been to see me. I woke up to hear the doorbell ring, and then there were footsteps up the stairs, and Mum was hugging me, and crying, and saying, “Oh Howard! You don't know hard it is being separated from your child when they are ill!”. I didn't remind her that she said motherhood was like a prison.

I said, “Mum, I have to tell you something. Vince - “. She kissed my cheek and said, “I know all about it, Howard. Your father told me. You shouldn't talk when your poor throat is so sore. I'm going to make you some orange jelly. And would you like chicken soup?”.

Mum has sat with me for most of the day, bringing me food and drink, and fluffing my pillows. She said she was so angry with the school for letting me get bullied and suspending me just for wearing red socks, but she's happy I've got Vince.

She called Vince my boyfriend, and I turned bright red, and said, “Mum!”. But when she asked what Vince was then, I couldn't think of anything to say. I couldn't tell her that some days he's my girlfriend.

**Sunday 28th**   
_Second after Trinity_

My mother has just left to catch the train to Sheffield. We both cried when she came to say goodbye. I am worn out with all the emotion. I think I am having a relapse.

**Monday 29th**

Vince went to see Lester Corncrake. He said the nurses are getting fed up with him, because he won't stay in bed or do anything he is told to do. He is being discharged on Thursday.

I long for the peace and quiet of a hospital ward. I would be a perfect patient.

Dad is giving Vince and Queenie three euros a week to take care of Sabre. Vince didn't want to take the money, but Sabre eats a lot of food, so I said he should do it for Queenie's sake.

**Tuesday 30th**

I am now entering a period of convalescence. I will have to take things very easily if I am to regain my former youthful vigour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tolpuddle Martyrs: Six agricultural labourers from the village of Tolpuddle in Dorset, who were arrested in 1834 for forming a labour union during a wage dispute and sentenced to transportation to Australia. They were pardoned in 1836 after mass protests by sympathisers and returned to England. They were a popular cause for the early union and worker's rights movements in England, and remain heroes of the union movement today.
> 
> Queenie: In times past, it wasn't uncommon for English working class girls to be nicknamed Queenie if their birth name was the same as a queen eg Victoria. I believe Queenie is named after Maud of Wales (1869-1938), a daughter of King Edward VII, who became the Queen Consort of Norway when she married King Haakon VII in 1905. I'm guessing Queenie was born around this time, making her seventy-six years old – the same age as Howard's Nana.
> 
> Howard reads "The Road to Wigan Pier" by George Orwell (1937). It isn't a travel book, as Howard imagines, but a sociological investigation into the bleak lives of the working classes in Lancashire and Yorkshire. 
> 
> Neglected Lester: Howard is being way too hard on himself. He is supposed to see Lester every Monday morning during Maths class. He missed a Monday because his father was sick and he stayed home from school to care for him. The following Monday, he was suspended from school, and had the rest of the gang at his house. I think he would have seen Lester on his own time to make it up to him, but he'd just started seeing Vince, and couldn't think of anything else.
> 
> Benjamin Franklin: The American inventor was on the US half-dollar coin from 1948 to 1963. They ARE collector's items, and a particularly fine example could fetch as much as $500 today. Hopefully Howard held onto his!
> 
> "Lovesome things": Lester references the jazz standard "A Flower is a Lovesome Thing", written by Billy Strayhorn for Duke Ellington. Violas have a sweet scent, like honey, although it tends to come and go.
> 
> Hospital trolley: Shockingly, you could still buy cigarettes in hospitals in the UK as late as this century. The trolley service was (and is) run by businesses, charities, and welfare groups, so I suppose the hospitals could say they weren't actually making any profit from tobacco.
> 
> Polaris missiles: Polaris was the name of the UK's nuclear weapons programme from 1962 to 1996. 
> 
> Delirious dreams about Lady Diana Spencer: Brought on by the upcoming Royal Wedding. But when Noel was a teenager, he had a haircut rather like Lady Di's, and dark blond hair like hers, and even a similar sort of shy smile. It's not surprising Howard gets Vince and Lady Diana confused in his dreams.
> 
> Playschool: A TV show for children under five. It was on BBC One at 4.20 pm on Friday 26th June, and the presenters that day were Sarah Long and Johnny Ball. Johnny Ball (born 1938) was a regular fixture on children's television, and presented several popular science and technology programs for children. He was known for being rather eccentric in his presentation style (and still has some rather odd ideas about science). He is the father of radio DJ and TV presenter, Zoe Ball. 
> 
> It is sobering to recall that the HIV/AIDS epidemic officially began on 5th June 1981 when a cluster of unusual pneumonia cases were reported in the LA gay community. It does add poignancy to the fact that Howard is so fearful he might have given Vince a horrible virus while kissing him.


	7. July

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer holidays arrive, and it's summer loving for Howard and Vince, once Howard is over his illness. However, when Vince leaves to spend time with Bryan in India, Howard has nothing to do except pine, and plan the street party for the Royal Wedding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's quite a bit about Howard's street in this chapter. In case you haven't worked it out by now, Howard lives in a cul-de-sac. There's two houses on one side (the O'Leary family, and Mr and Mrs Lucas, who moved out earlier in the year), with the Moon house facing the other two houses on the opposite side. There's no mention of a house being at the top of the cul-de-sac, so I presume it's not one that has houses completely surrounding it, but the sort that is open at the other end to provide a walkway to a park or other public space. 
> 
> As has been mentioned here and there, the houses are typically suburban three-bedroom, one-bathroom semi-detached homes with small gardens at the front. There must be someone living in the house attached to the Moons', but we never hear about them. (In the Adrian Mole books, it was a deaf woman, which seemed to be reason enough to socially exclude her. I didn't like that idea, so the other neighbour is a mystery). 
> 
> There are other people living in the cul-de-sac, but they are never mentioned by name. We can only assume that either they don't socialise with the Moons, or they are mere background characters to the main drama.

**Wednesday 1st**  
_**Dominion Day, Canada. New Moon.** _

The truant officer came round this afternoon; he caught me sitting in a deckchair in the front garden. He didn’t believe I was ill! He is reporting me to the school! The fact that I was sipping Lucozade whilst wearing pyjamas, dressing gown and slippers seemed to have escaped him. I offered to show him my yucky tonsils but he backed away and trod on the dog’s paw. The dog has got a low pain threshold so it went a bit berserk. My father came out and separated them but things could get nasty for us.

**Thursday 2nd**

The doctor said I can go back to school tomorrow, depending on how I feel. You can depend that I won’t feel up to it.

**Friday 3rd**

Mr Singh and his family are moving into Mr Lucas' old house opposite us! I sat in my deckchair and had a good view of their furniture being carried out from the removal van. You wouldn't believe the massive cooking pots they have, like witches' cauldrons.

When Vince came round after school, he watched as well, and started talking about growing up in India. He's already told me all the stories, but I could listen to them again and again. I always thought of jungles as being just plants and animals, but Vince said Indian jungles have villages in them, and that he knew lots of people there. On long expeditions, he slept on their floors, ate their food, and even took part in their festivals.

I am reading _The Jungle Book_ by Rudyard Kipling. It is nearly as exciting as Vince's stories.

**Saturday 4th**  
_**Independence Day, USA** _

The street is full of Indian people arriving or departing in cars, vans, and min-buses, trooping in and out of the Singh's house. Vince and I went over to welcome the Singhs to the street, and it turns out Vince can speak Hindi! He knows lots of Indian languages.

He talked a blue streak with Mr Singh, and the Singhs were amazed when Vince said he grew up in a jungle in India. They kept calling him something, and Vince wouldn't translate, but he said they had heard about him before. I asked if the Singhs are from the same area, but Vince shook his head, and said, “No. From the north”. I think Vince might be an actual living legend.

Lester Corncrake is still in hospital.

**Sunday 5th**  
_**Third after Trinity** _

Stayed in bed until 6 pm. There was no point getting up. Vince went to the allotment open day with Queenie.

He came over this evening and brought me and Dad a jar of apricot jam that didn't sell. Vince said Blossom (their goat) was very popular. Vince gave milking demonstrations on her, and they completely sold out of goat's milk soap and goat's milk cheese.

**Monday 6th**

Mrs O'Leary is trying to organise a street party for the Royal Wedding. The only people to put their names down so far are the Singh family.

**Tuesday 7th**

Lester Corncrake has escaped from hospital. He telephoned the National Council for Civil Liberties and they told him he could sign himself out, so he did. He is in our spare room. My father is going up the wall.

Vince, Lester and I have put our names down for the street party. Lester is looking much better now that he can smoke as many Gauloises as he likes.

**Wednesday 8th**

My father is near to despair because of Lester's snoring. It doesn’t bother me, I put Blu-tak in my ears.

Went to school today. I have decided to take Domestic Science, Art, Woodwork and English for O levels. I am doing Geography, Maths and History for CSE. Vince is only doing Art for O Levels, and English, Maths and Geography for CSE, but he didn't start school until this year. I told him the CSE isn't that important, anyway.

**Thursday 9th**  
_**Moon's First Quarter** _

School breaks up for eight weeks tomorrow. Leroy is spending the whole summer lying on a beach in the Greek islands. If I went to Greece, I would want to drink in all the history and culture of the country.

Vince is going to India soon. I don't know how I will survive without him. We kiss every day now I've recovered from tonsillitis. I confessed to Vince my worries that I wasn't good at kissing, but he told me not to be a berk. “You're a genius kisser, Howard”, he said, which made me feel a lot better. I think I still need more practice, though.

I have never felt happier in my life.

**Friday 10th**

It was magic at school today. All the teachers were in good moods. A rumour went around that wobble-cheeks Bainbridge was seen laughing but I didn't believe it myself.

Barry Kent climbed up the flagpole and flew a pair of his mother's knickers in the breeze. Vince said it was probably the first airing they had had in years.

Sean O'Leary is nineteen today. He has invited me and Vince to his birthday party. It's only over the road so we won't have far to go, and Queenie is going to let Vince stay the night since it's summer holidays.

I am writing up my diary now in case I have too much to drink. People seem to get drunk just stepping over the O'Leary's threshold.

**Saturday 11th**

I will write down everything I remember of my first proper grown-up party. I was a bit worried about Vince, because I don't know Sean's friends, but Vince was in a boy mood and wearing jeans, striped tee-shirt, and green jacket.

When we got there, Sean gave us both a beer, and we stood about drinking with Sean's mates for a while. Vince didn't like beer very much, so I drank most of his. And then ABBA came on, and Vince said, “Love this song. Let's dance”.

I must have already been drunk, because a minute later I was dancing to _Take a Chance on Me_ with Vince, Sean's older sister Kathleen, and Kathleen's friends. They gave us orange juice to drink but it had something in it, and said we were cute. I remember dancing to an entire ABBA album, and laughing a lot, and Kathleen's friend Marie saying, “Do you want a slow comfortable screw against the wall?”, which turned out to be what we were drinking. That made me laugh hysterically.

Vince had to get me home, even though he drank more than I did, and helped me up the stairs. We fell into bed together in our clothes and kissed and then I think I fell asleep.

First proper hangover today. Aged fourteen years, two months, and one week.

**Sunday 12th**  
_**Battle of the Boyne, Northern Ireland. Fourth after Trinity** _

Dad and I drove over to Vince's this morning to pick up Sabre. Vince is going away soon and won't be able to take care of him, and Queenie says Sabre is terrorising her cat. She doesn't know if Ginger will ever be the same again.

It was very touching to see Lester and Sabre reunited when we got home. Lester said he won't be parted from Sabre again. He said that Sabre is his only friend in the world! After all I have done for him! If it wasn't for me he would be a corpse by now, and Sabre an orphan living with the RSPCA.

**Monday 13th**

Lester has been talking to Mrs Singh. He speaks fluent Hindi. I'm starting to wonder if I'm the only person in the world who doesn't speak Hindi! Lester says he learnt the language after he travelled the Beatnik Trail through India in the early 1960s, and lived in an ashram studying meditation for two years, until he realised it wasn't the beach side hotel in Goa he had booked.

Lester said Mrs Singh found some indecent magazines under the lino in the bathroom, left behind by Mr Lucas. Mr Singh is outraged. He has written a letter to the estate agents, complaining that his home has been defiled.

Lester showed me one of the magazines. In my opinion, it is not indecent, but then I am a man of the world. I have put the magazine under my mattress with the _Fitness Weekly_ s. It is called _Amateur Glamour_ , and I'm going to show it to Vince in case it gives him ideas.

**Tuesday 14th**

Lester's social worker came around tonight. She is called Katie Booth. She talked to Lester in a stupid way. She said that Lester has been offered a place in the Sunshine Lane Residential Care Facility. Lester told her he didn't want to go. Katie Booth said he has got to go. Even my father said that he felt sorry for Lester. But not sorry enough to ask him to live with us permanently.

Poor Lester. What will happen to him?

**Wednesday 15th**

Lester has moved in with the Singhs. Mr Singh fetched Sabre's kennel, so it is official. Lester looks dead happy. His favourite food is curry. Dad drove to Wakefield to get the dog back. My grandparents were glad, they were sick of the dog.

I asked Vince tonight if I could touch his bum. It was nice feeling it through tight jeans, but then Vince said to wait a minute, and he went and got changed behind the wardrobe door in his room. When he came back, he had on a short, fluffy pink skirt, all ruffles. He said to try it again, and I put my hands under his skirt. It felt magic. We lay kissing on his bed, with our hands on each other's bums for ages, until Queenie came home from her Communist meeting.

I think the magazine did give Vince some ideas. I hope he gets more.

I am reading _Changing Bodies, Changing Lives: A Book for Teens on Sex and Relationships_ by Ruth Bell. I was a little bit embarrassed for Mrs Gideon to see me getting it out, but she date stamped it like any other book and reminded me that I could renew it for another week if I needed.

**Thursday 16th**

_4 pm:_ My father is celebrating not having to be home all the time to keep an eye on Lester by going out with The Man Council. The only trouble was that he didn't know if Dennis would be able to go, because Dennis' wife (I think she is called Melissa?) is staying with friends, and there was nobody to take care of Kirk. Guess who Kirk's babysitter is going to be? Yes, dear diary, you guessed right. It is I!

 _11 pm:_ I knew Kirk was evil. I mean, really deep down evil. Because everything was fine until he had to go to bed, and then with no warning he just started screaming. Except his eyes looked exactly the same, as if he was possessed by a screaming demon. At nine-thirty I rang Vince, and said I didn't know what to do. He put Queenie on, and she said to put some vodka in warm milk, and make him drink it. I did it. And it worked.

Kirk is not a bad kid when he is asleep.

**Friday 17th**  
_**Full Moon** _

Vince leaves these shores tomorrow. I am going to the airport to see him off. I hope his plane won't suffer from metal fatigue. I have just checked the atlas to see Vince's flight path, and am most relieved he won't be travelling through the Bermuda Triangle.

If anything happened to Vince, I would never smile again.

I have bought Vince a book called _A Walk in Wolf Wood_ to read on the plane. It is about time travel and werewolves, and I think he will like it. His reading gets better all the time.

**Saturday 18th**

This afternoon Dad drove Vince, Queenie and me to the airport. It was such a strange feeling when Vince's flight was called, knowing that soon he would be in the air, on his way to Bombay. I waved to the plane until it had retreated behind a large cloud.

"I reckon you'll be missing Vince very badly", Queenie said to me, and when I nodded she said, "I'll miss him too, Howard". She put her arm around me, and we walked back to the car together.

I don't know how I'll get through the next two weeks. Goodnight Vince. Fly safely.

**Sunday 19th**  
_**Fifth after Trinity** _

Stayed in bed and looked at maps of India in the atlas, trying to work out whether Vince would have got back to the jungle yet.

**Monday 20th**

Not had a letter from Vince yet. Called round to see Queenie, and she said it's probably a bit soon.

**Tuesday 21st**

Lester came round this morning. He said the jungles of India are full of hazards.

**Wednesday 22nd**

Why haven't I had a letter yet? What can have happened?

**Thursday 23rd**

Asked our postman about communications between India and England. He said they were “diabolical” in the jungles, and that letters sometimes have to be carried by elephant to the nearest post office.

**Friday 24th**  
_**Moon's Last Quarter** _

Went to see Mr Singh. He said that the villages in Indian jungles can be very unhygienic. Everybody but me seems to be familiar with India!

**Saturday 25th**

VINCE! VINCE! VINCE!

_Oh! my love,_  
_My heart is yearning,_  
_My mouth is dry,_  
_My soul is burning._  
_You're in India,_  
_I am here._  
_Remember me and shed a tear._  
_Please come back by the day you are due,_  
_I can't go on if anything happens to you._

He will be home in one week.

**Sunday 26th**  
_**Sixth after Trinity** _

Went to tea at my grandparents'. I was sad and withdrawn because of Vince's sojourn in India. Nana asked if I was constipated. I nearly said something, but what would my grandparents know about love? They've been married for forty-five years.

**Monday 27th**

A parcel from Vince! Inside was a present wrapped in beautiful paper, and when I opened it, it was a brass elephant, maybe like the one which delivered the parcel. It is magic, and I put it on my table with Stationary Village.

The letter with it said:

_hiya howard!_

_it is reely good seeing bryan again. he feels well gilty abowt wot hapenned with the mishonaries, but its not his fault. i have cawt up with lots of frends like jahooli the leppard and they still remember me. i luv being back agen, but I reely miss you, howard._

_luv ya,_

_vince xxx_

I went round to Queenie's to show her. She has a colourful shawl and some bright jewellery as her present. She showed me her letter from Vince, and it says that he might have to stay longer than he first thought. Why wouldn't he tell me that as well? And why does he need to stay longer? I hope he isn't in trouble of some kind.

Queenie told me not to fret myself, and we'd find out in good time what it was all about. I can tell she is worried too, though.

**Tuesday 28th**

It’s a wonder I have the strength to hold my pen! I have been on the go all day with preparations for the Royal Wedding street party.

Kathleen O’Leary came over and asked if I would help with the bunting. Kathleen said that if I climbed the ladder she would pass the bunting up to me. I was all right for the first four or five rungs but then I made the mistake of looking down and I had a vertigo attack, so Kathleen did all the climbing.

I couldn’t help noticing Kathleen's knickers. They are surprisingly sexy for someone who goes to church every Sunday. Black lace! With red satin ribbons! I got the feeling that Kathleen knew that I was looking at her knickers because she asked me to call her Kathy. I kept picturing Kathy's knickers on Vince, and then I got vertigo even on the ground.

Mr and Mrs Singh have hung a huge Union Jack out of their front bedroom window. Lester told me that it was one he stole during the Silver Jubilee. Our house is letting the street down. All my father has done is pin a Charles and Diana tea towel to the front door.

My father and I watched the Royal Wedding firework display on television. All I can say is that I tried to enjoy it but failed. My father said it was one way of burning money. He is touchy whenever marriage is mentioned, I've noticed.

I hope the prince remembers to remove the price ticket off the bottom of his shoes; my father didn’t at his wedding. Everyone in the church read the ticket. It said: 12½ reject, €0.50.

**Wednesday 29th**  
_**Royal Wedding** _

My grandparents came to our house to watch the wedding because we have got a twenty-four inch colour. I invited Queenie to join us, but she got all Communist, and started saying things about the “idle rich” and “parasites”, so I left it.

Prince Charles looked quite handsome in spite of his ears. Lady Diana melted my heart in her dirty white dress. She even helped an old man up the aisle. I thought it was very kind of her considering it was her wedding day. Loads of dead famous people were there. Nancy Reagan, Spike Milligan, Mark Phillips, etc etc. The Prince had remembered to take the price ticket off his shoes. So that was one worry off my mind.

When the Prince and Di exchanged rings Nana started to cry. She hadn’t brought her handkerchief so I went to get her a tissue. When I came back, they were married. So I missed the historic moment of their marriage! I made a cup of tea during all the boring musical interval, but I did hear the Kiwi woman.

After my grandparents left, there was a knock at the door, and it was Lester, Mr Singh, Mrs Singh, and the four little Singhs, Vijay, Malini, Raj, and Sunita, seeking sanctuary. Their telly had broken down! We all gathered in front of the television to watch the couple's triumphant ride back to the palace, and Mrs Singh handed around some extremely hot little samosas.

We watched television until the happy couple left Waterloo station on a very strange-looking train. Dad said it was only strange-looking because it was clean.

Mrs O’Leary came and asked if she could borrow our chairs for the street party, so I carried them out to the pavement. Our street looked dead weird with no cars, and with flags and bunting flapping about.

Mrs O’Leary and Mrs Singh swept the street clean. Then we all helped to put the tables and chairs out into the middle of the road. The women did all the work, the men stood around on the pavement drinking too much and making dirty jokes.

Mr Singh put his stereo speakers out of his lounge windows and we listened to a Des O’Connor LP whilst we set the tables with sandwiches, jam tarts, sausage rolls and sausages on sticks. Then everyone in our street was given a funny hat by Mrs O’Leary and we sat down to eat. At the end of the tea Mr Singh made a speech about how great it was to be British. Everyone cheered and sang _Land of Hope and Glory_. But only Mr Singh knew all the words.

Then my father brought out four party packs of light ale and two dozen paper cups, and soon everyone was acting in an undignified manner. Mr O’Leary tried to teach Mrs Singh an Irish jig but he kept getting tangled in her sari. Kathy O'Leary put her ABBA LP on and turned the volume up high, and soon even the old people over forty were dancing!

When the street lamps came on Sean O’Leary climbed up and put red, white and blue crepe paper over the bulbs to help the atmosphere and I fetched all our candles and put them on the tables. Our street looked quite bohemian. Lester told some lies about the war, my father told jokes. The party went on until one o’clock in the morning! Normally they get a petition up if you clear your throat after eleven o’clock at night!

I didn’t dance, I was an amused, cynical observer. Besides my feet were aching.

**Thursday 30th**

I have seen the Royal Wedding repeats seven times on television.

**Friday 31st**  
_**New Moon** _

Sick to death of Royal Wedding. Vince is coming home tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You might remember Mr Singh from May: he runs the shop from which Howard bought a joss stick. The surname Singh is associated with north India, especially the Punjab region. In the Adrian Mole books, the Singh children are nameless and numberless; I decided there were four, and named them after friends etc.
> 
> Howard reads “The Jungle Book”, a collection of stories by Rudyard Kipling (1894), and “Changing Bodies, Changing Lives” by Ruth Bell, a book on teenage sexuality (1981). It was one of the first sex education books to include information for LGBT teens. 
> 
> CSE is the Certificate of Secondary Education, and O-Levels are General Certificate of Education Ordinary Level, a pathway to the more rigorous A-Levels (Advanced Level). Both secondary school qualifications were replaced by the GCSE in 1988.
> 
> “Take a Chance on Me” went to #1 in the UK in 1978; it's from the 1977 album “ABBA: The Album”. They might have listened to that at the party, or a compilation album such as “Greatest Hits Vol. 2” (1979). 
> 
> A Slow Comfortable Screw Up Against a Wall is a cocktail that's a variant of a Screwdriver. It's one part sloe gin, one part Southern Comfort, one part Galliano, and then filled up with orange juice. Cocktails based on orange juice and Galliano were hugely popular in the 1970s.
> 
> The Beatnik Trail was the overland route from major European capitals to South Asia, including India and Nepal. It became a beatnik travel destination due to Beat writers such as Allen Ginsburg. By the late 1960s, it became known as the Hippie Trail. The usual travel method was by hitchhiking, but as Lester was a 70-year-old visually impaired man, I'm hoping he went by a cheap, private bus service. 
> 
> My head canon is that Lester's ashram was at Crank's Ridge, a ridge in the Himalayas above the town of Almora on the Hippie Trail. There is a Tibetan Buddhist ashram on the ridge catering to westerners since the 1920s. 
> 
> “Amateur Glamour” magazine is fictional, and a slight anachronism, since until the 1990s, 90% of amateur photography magazine content was glamour photography (therefore any magazine for amateur photography would have been mostly glamour shots). 
> 
> Vince's fluffy pink skirt is a ra-ra skirt, a ruffled cheerleader-style mini-skirt which is basically a frilly tutu made from thicker fabric. They became popular in the early 1980s – the first time mini-skirts had a comeback since the 1960s. 
> 
> Queenie's advice to offer a small child alcohol was uncontroversial at this time in the UK, but please do not follow it. 
> 
> The book Howard buys Vince is “A Walk in Wolf Wood: A Tale of Fantasy and Magic”, by English author Mary Stewart (1980). It's about some contemporary children who travel back in time and help out a nice werewolf. 
> 
> I am assuming that Vince's jungle is the same as Mowgli's, usually identified as Pench National Park and the adjoining Bhander Range Forest. It's in Madhya Pradesh state, and Bombay (now Mumbai) would have been the closest airport with flights from the UK. Vince would have had to catch a 90 minute domestic flight to Seoni from Bombay, then had a three hour drive to the jungle.
> 
> The Royal Fireworks were shown on BBC One at 9.25 pm on Tuesday 28th July 1981. 
> 
> The wedding of Prince Charles and Lady Diana was extensively televised on BBC One. It began at 9.45 am with the carriage processions to St Paul's Cathedral, followed at 11 am with the marriage service, and the processions back to Buckingham Palace, concluding at 1.45 pm. At 3.30 pm, “Nationwide” had a Royal Wedding Special, showing the couple leaving Waterloo Station to begin their honeymoon – a 14-day cruise of the Mediterranean aboard the royal yacht. That finished at 5.05 pm, then from 9-10 pm, they showed a highlights package of the wedding. 
> 
> Lady Diana's wedding dress was ivory taffeta, hence Howard thinking it is dirty. The train was too large for the glass carriage they travelled in and got badly creased, so the wrinkles in it may have made him think that as well. The “old man she helped down the aisle” was of course her father, the 8th Earl Spencer (aged 57). He had a stroke a few years earlier, which made him seem older and frailer than his age.
> 
> The “Kiwi woman” was New Zealand soprano Dame Kiri Te Kanawa. She sang “Let the Bright Seraphim”. 
> 
> Street parties are a uniquely British celebration where an entire residential street closes down in order to celebrate some patriotic occasion. There is invariably bunting to decorate the street, and trestle tables for everyone to eat afternoon tea together. Apart from that, celebrations may take almost any form, but drinking, music, and dancing, such as at Howard's street party, are extremely common. There were 100 street parties in Leeds to celebrate the Royal Wedding in 1981. 
> 
> The Silver Jubilee was in 1977, to celebrate the 25th anniversary of Queen Elizabeth II's accession to the throne.


	8. August

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Howard and Vince have an ecstatic reunion when Vince returns from India, but Howard has his own family holiday in Wales to get through, where he meets a real man of action from the frozen tundra, whose tastes agree with Howard's a little too well.

**Monday 1st**

Went round to Queenie's. She said Vince wouldn't be coming home today, as there is some situation which needs sorting out. She said she doesn't really understand it herself, but that I mustn't worry.

Got a phone call from Mum tonight. She said she has organised a family holiday for us in Wales later this month. Gee, thanks for asking me and Dad where we wanted to go! Or even _if_ we wanted to go – I'm still waiting for Vince to get back from India, and now we're going to be separated again!

Dad told me that Mum had worked very hard and saved every spare euro for this holiday, and not to be an ungrateful little snot about it. I asked him where he would have preferred to go for our holidays, and he said "Blackpool". So I suppose it could have been worse.

**Sunday 2nd**   
_Seventh after Trinity_

Went round to Queenie's. She said Wales is a beautiful country, and its people needed more support from our capitalist pig government. Queenie has spoken to Vince, and she said everything will be okay, but he's still not ready to leave Bryan, who was recently bitten by a flying fox. The villagers believe Bryan must have angered a spirit, and they won't allow Bryan and Vince to travel through the jungle until they have given an offering of bananas to the flying foxes.

**Monday 3rd**   
_Summer Bank Holiday (Scotland and Rep. of Ireland)_

Queenie says the offering has been made, and Vince hopes to be home Thursday.

**Tuesday 4th**

Vince has taken Bryan to a doctor to be vaccinated against the plague and green monkey fever. I called in to see Lester on the way home, and explained about the flying foxes. Mr Singh said, “How unhygienic”.

Lester says that Wales is a land steeped in magic and legend, and besides, my mother has already booked the holiday.

**Wednesday 5th**

Vince is on his way home. HE WILL BE IN ENGLAND FRIDAY NIGHT!!!!!!!!!!!!

**Thursday 6th**

Can't settle to anything. Can't wait to see Vince.

**Friday 7th**   
_Moon's First Quarter_

I phoned the airline information line. Vince's plane safely left Bombay, and he should arrive at Heathrow just before midnight.

**Saturday 8th**

At 7 am, Vince rang from King's Cross station. He was just about to board the train to Leeds, and said that he would be delayed because the track at Doncaster was being electrocuted. I think he meant electrified.

Got dressed, went to the train station, bought a platform ticket, and waited on Platform 5 for three cold, lonely hours. But it was all worth it when I saw a blond boy with a deep tan get off the train, wearing a long pink shirt like a dress, and with tight yellow trousers underneath.

We hugged without saying anything, just grinning at each other as if we'd both gone mental. I helped Vince with his luggage, and then I rang Dad from the station phone to come and get us. He drove Vince back to Queenie's while he told us all about his holiday, and then we pulled up in Oak Street. Queenie came out, and Vince ran into her arms. Queenie looked as if she never wanted to let him go.

Spent all afternoon with Vince. We walked to the allotments together, and went to see Blossom the goat. We went into her little hut and closed the door, and then Vince shoved me up against the wall like he was going mad, and we kissed and kissed and kissed and kissed.

There are no words.

**Sunday 9th**   
_Eighth after Trinity_

Put my hands under Vince's pink skirt again. This time my hands slipped down from his bum and felt his thighs. My thing keeps growing and shrinking, it seems to have a life of its own. I can't control it. Vince says his is the same, but it doesn't seem to worry him.

**Monday 10th**

Vince and I went to the swimming baths this morning. Vince looked superb in his white swim trunks. He has gone the same colour as Mr Singh. I didn't trust my thing to behave, so I sat in the spectator's gallery and watched Vince diving from the highest diving board. He is completely fearless.

Got back to my house and went up to my brown bedroom. Vince says he liked the Rupert the Bear wallpaper! Lit a joss stick, put Queen on the record player, sneaked a bottle of Sanatogen upstairs, and indulged in a bit of light petting until Vince said he had to go home for dinner. Queenie is dead strict about meal times.

I was racked with sexuality, but it wore off a bit when I helped my father put manure on our rose bed.

**Tuesday 11th**

Got a letter from my mother.

_Dear Howie,_

_I'm sorry that Wales wasn't your first choice for a holiday, but I truly believe you will enjoy it if you give it a chance. We are going somewhere very pretty, and there is plenty to do. This is our chance to finally spend time together as a family, which is so important when we are living apart._

_You have no idea how much I long to see you, Howie. I had to give up my visit to you last month to help pay for the holiday, and I miss you, Howie. I want to hear all about your summer holidays, and about Vince, and Lester, and everything. Never, ever, think that I went to Sheffield not caring about you, Howie. I hate being separated from you._

_Lots of love,_

_Mum_

_PS See you on the fifteenth. Your father wants to make an early start._

Yeah, right. And exactly _whose_ idea was it that we live apart?????

**Wednesday 12th**

I told Vince that I like sexy knickers. When he's wearing that skirt, I blurt everything out. Vince giggled and asked whose knickers I'd been looking at.

I said, “Nobody's. I mean, Kathy O'Leary's”.

Vince wanted to know how come I'd seen Kathy's knickers, and I had to confess I'd looked up her skirt when she was on a ladder putting up bunting for the Royal Wedding. He asked what her knickers were like, and I said black lace with red ribbons. I could feel my face getting hot.

I told Vince I kept picturing him wearing the knickers, and then we kissed so hard, with our hands going everywhere, until we heard Queenie coming in the front door. She'd been to the allotment all on her own, and I felt dead guilty we hadn't gone with her. We went and helped her with the carrots and lettuce she'd brought home, and asked her how Blossom was.

**Thursday 13th**

Our light to medium petting feels like it will get quite heavy soon unless we do something to stop it. I'm beginning to think the strain of it all is detrimental to my health. I have got no energy, and my sleep is constantly interrupted by dreams about Vince in his white swimming trunks, and Kathy O'Leary's knickers.

**Friday 14th**

Had tragic last night with Vince. We both swore to be true during our enforced separation. I have done all my packing. The dog has been taken to my grandparents with fourteen tins of Pedigree Chum and a giant sack of Winalot.

I am taking _On the Road_ by Jack Kerouac to read on holiday.

**Saturday 15th**   
_The Assumption. Full Moon_

My father and I left at 8.30 this morning, and drove in our usual silence to Sheffield. I hadn't seen my mother for about six weeks, and she is dead thin, and has started dressing in clothes that are too young for her. She doesn't look like my mum any more. She certainly doesn't feel like my mum.

Dad can't even talk to me when he drives, but he paws at my mother when she is in the passenger seat, and even stops to kiss her when it is safe to do so. I felt superfluous, so I pretended to sleep until we crossed the border into Wales.

We are at a place called Tal-y-llyn. I am in bed in a log cabin. My parents have gone to the village to have a drink at the pub. At least, that is their story.

**Sunday 16th**   
_Ninth after Trinity_

There is a lake in front of the cabin, and a forest and a mountain behind the cabin. There is nothing to do. It is dead boring. It's so quiet I think I can hear my cells dying.

**Monday 17th**

Did some washing in a log cabin launderette. Spoke to an American tourist named Jack Kodiak. He is the same age as me, and is from Alaska. I told him that my dream is to trek the frozen tundra, and Jack said that he has trekked it several times already. He is a true man of action (well, a boy of action).

Jack is here with his mother, who is on her fourth honeymoon. I asked Jack what happened to her other husbands. Jack said that his previous stepfather ran off with the woman who owned the bar in town, and the stepfather before that was eaten by a bear. Jack's own father disappeared mysteriously one night on Piney Ridge, and Jack believes he was taken by Bigfoot or maybe even a Yeti. He is going to dedicate his life to proving that.

Jack said his mother has finally landed on her feet, and married a wealthy tourist. After the honeymoon, he is going to take them to New York to live in his apartment opposite Central Park, and Jack is going to a private school. But his heart will always remain in Alaska.

**Tuesday 18th**

Rained all day. I read my book, and realised I've spent most of my life on the road. Back and forth to Wakefield nearly every weekend, plus summer holidays. Just this year I've travelled to Sheffield, and now I'm in another country. I can't really call it a foreign country. Still, I've left England, and I'm only fourteen. I feel a kinship to the nomadic peoples of the world, as if I have a spiritual wanderlust inside me. There are a million journeys inside of me, a million adventures, waiting.

**Wednesday 19th**

Went for a walk with my parents to see Dolgoch Falls. We walked the trail, saw the waterfalls, had a picnic there, walked back to the car park. Big deal!

Sent postcards from the village. Phoned Vince, but only had enough money to say, “I miss you”, before the pips went.

**Thursday 20th**

Played cards with Jack Kodiak. He asked if I had a girlfriend. I didn't say yes or no, but I showed him a photo of Vince I keep in my wallet. Vince is wearing his pink skirt, fishnet tights, a black Rolling Stones tee-shirt, a pink scarf holding his hair in place like a bandanna, and some make-up.

“Wow, she's stunning”, Jack said, his eyes wide. “We don't have beautiful little nubile princesses like that in Alaska. I'd do anything to have a girlfriend like her, Howard. You lucky son of a bitch”.

I had to prise the photo out of his hands. It was already slightly sticky.

**Friday 21st**

Walked two miles into Minffordd to buy Mars Bar. Played on Space Invaders. Came back, had tea. Phoned Vince from log cabin phone box. This time I had more money on me. He still loves me. I love him. Went to bed and looked at Vince's photo.

**Saturday 22nd**   
_Moon's Last Quarter_

Went to see Portmeirion, a village by the sea built in the 19th century to look like an Italian village. It's where they filmed _The Prisoner_ , my father kept saying. It was very weird, like we stepped into another world. I kept thinking that Vince would like it, and that made me feel lonely.

**Sunday 23rd**   
_Tenth after Trinity_

My mother has made friends with a woman named Mrs Ball who is here on holiday. Mrs Ball has a daughter who writes novels. I asked Mrs Ball how her daughter qualified to be a writer, and she said she was dropped on her head as a child and has been “a bit queer” ever since.

My parents went to Harlech Castle with Mr and Mrs Ball today. Jack Kodiak suggested that we climb Cader Idris. He said if I wanted to be a man of action, I needed to put on my boots and climb a few mountains. I said how about we start with one?

We had to walk to the village just to start the climb. And once you get on the path it is really hard going. My feet hurt almost immediately, and Jack kept gibbering on about the beauty of the gorges and waterfalls. By the time we got to the top, I was freezing cold and could no longer see anything, just a grey mist in front of my eyes. Jack said that was because we were in the clouds, but I'm pretty sure I went temporarily blind.

Jack said that if you sleep the night on Cader Idris, you will wake up either a poet, or a madman. I'm already a poet, and don't think the other option makes it worth trying. I can't even remember getting down, I think I must have been delirious from exhaustion, dehydration, and starvation by then. We left at 11 am, and it was 5:30 by the time we got home, footsore, weary, and ready to lie down and die. My parents were still not back, but Jack made bacon and eggs for tea.

As I write, Jack is canoeing on the lake. He must be on drugs.

**Monday 24th**

Went to Bangor. Saw Penrhyn Castle, the cathedral, the museum, and art gallery. Bought Vince a wooden lovespoon at the gift shop. Mum said, “You know you give a lovespoon to someone you're going to marry?”. I nodded, and she looked like she was going to say something, but then she just smiled a funny sort of smile.

Now back in the log cabin, I am reading a book I bought in a second hand shop called _Owen Glendower_ by John Cowper Powys.

**Tuesday 25th**

My father asked me if there was anything I especially wanted to do. I said I'd like to see where the Battle of Bryn Glas took place. I'd just been reading about it in _Owen Glendower_ , and it sounded quite exciting.

My parents didn't look thrilled, but they asked where it was, and Dad looked at the map, and they said alright. We drove to the village of Pilleth, and got out at the little white church of St Mary, and then there was … nothing. Just the churchyard, with trees planted to honour the English dead, and the green hill. It is all peaceful now, with sheep grazing.

We walked up and down a bit, and I read out a few bits of the book, and then we drove to Builth Wells to have lunch, and went to see where Llywellyn the Great fell in battle, the last proper Prince of Wales. I showed Mum the well where they washed his head before sending it to King Edward I, and she shuddered and said, “How disgusting”. But at least it was a clean head.

**Wednesday 26th**

We got to Aberystwyth at 11 o'clock this morning. It was raining and miserable, and there wasn't much actually there, but we walked around for a bit. Mum nagged Dad to take her to the Arts Centre, and I was going to sit in the car and read my book, but there was a weirdo hanging about, so I reluctantly followed them inside.

I'm so glad I did! Because they had a Surrealist Film Festival at the cinema, and I sat down and watched _Un Chien Andalou_. It is just like a real dream, only even stranger. I felt that my brain had been opened up to a new way of seeing things. I never really understood why Vince is always going on about Salvador Dali, but now I get it. One day we will watch the film together.

**Thursday 27th**

Fishguard today. Bumped into Mr and Mrs Swallow, who live in the next street from us. Everyone kept saying, “It's a small world, isn't it?”.

Mrs Swallow said that she'd heard we'd moved to Sheffield. Mum looked slightly uncomfortable, and said, “No, only me. I'm on assignment there for work”.

Mrs Swallow smiled, and said, “How modern. Your family must miss you, though. Two men, left all alone! I can imagine the state of the house by now”.

Dad said, “We're actually very proud of Pauline. And Howard and I are quite capable of taking care of ourselves, we're not helpless”.

Mum gave Dad a smile, and said we had to go to the market.

**Friday 28th**

Llanberis today. Mount Snowdon was a bit of a disappointment. I couldn't tell where it began or stopped. The other mountains clutter it up. We took the train to the top, I'd had enough of mountain climbing. The view was incredible though. It felt as if you could dive straight into the lake.

**Saturday 29th**   
_New Moon_

Walked right around the lake with Jack Kodiak. He told me he thinks that his mother might be thinking about divorce. He is going home tomorrow morning, and asked if he could see the photo of my girlfriend again, but I said I didn't have my wallet with me. He looked disappointed, but I really didn't want him getting his slimy fingers all over Vince.

When we got back from our walk, Jack suggested we take the canoe out on the lake, and see if you we could catch some fish. He said they were more likely to bite in the evening. Jack grabbed his fishing tackle, and we were just pushing the canoe out when one of the villagers who was walking home from the pub suddenly ran at us, yelling, “No, no! Not on the lake, now. It's not safe”.

Jack said he'd been canoeing on the lake nearly every day, and so had many other people, but the villager said, “Oh yes, in the daylight it is safe enough. But when it gets dark, dangerous it is. It takes people from their boats under the cover of darkness, like”.

The villager was so frantic that we had no choice but to pull the canoe back and say we wouldn't go. I asked what exactly “it” was, and was told it was some sort of man-fish that dragged people from their boats at night.

Jack thought the story was interesting, and he wanted to go out in the canoe to look for the lake monster as soon as the villager had gone on his way, but I said I just remembered that I still hadn't started my packing. Which was true, I hadn't. And then Jack remembered he hadn't done his either, so we said goodbye and went to our separate log cabins.

I have finished my packing now, and am waiting for my parents to come back from a last stroll in the woods. Hopefully there isn't anything in the woods that grabs you at night.

**Sunday 30th**   
_Eleventh after Trinity_

I made Dad stop for souvenirs in Wrexham. I bought Vince a stuffed toy puffin, Lester a knitted beanie with the Welsh flag on it, the dog a collar with the Welsh flag on it, Nana a tea towel with a dragon it, Grandpa a box of Welsh fudge (Baileys Irish Cream flavour), Leroy a tee-shirt with _My Mate Went to Wales and All I Got Was This Lousy T-Shirt_ written on it, a mug with daffodils on it for Mum, and a fridge magnet for Dad with the Welsh flag on it.

I bought myself a scribble pad with the Welsh flag on the cover. I am determined to become a writer.

Here is an extract from my “Thoughts on Wales” written on the M56 at 120 mph.

_The hallowed mist rolls away, leaving the majestic Welsh peaks revealed in all their majesty. A shape in the pearly sky reveals itself to be a peregrine, that majestic bird of prey. Talons out, it lands on a lake, rippling the quiet majesty of those mystically still waters. The peregrine pauses only to dip its beak in the clear lake before spreading its majestic wings and flying to its magisterial nest high in the green, verdant, grassy hills which stand reflected in the majestic silence of the mirror-like lake._

_The Welsh cattle. Majestic black-coated white-horned beasts of the green valleys. They lower their brown-eyed majestic heads, as they ruminate on the mysteries of Snowdonia._

There are a couple too many “majestics”. But I think it reads rather well. I will send it to the BBC when it is finished. Got home at 6 pm. Too tired to write more.

**Monday 31st**   
_Summer Bank Holiday (except Scotland and Rep. of Ireland)_

Everyone is broke. The banks are closed, and my father can't remember the secret code on his plastic money-card. He had the nerve to borrow five euros from Lester Corncrake. Fancy asking an old, blind, semi-homeless man for money!

It is insanely good to be back with Vince again. The separation only served to fuel our passion. Our hormones are stirred every time we meet. Vince slept snuggled up to the stuffed toy puffin last night. How I wish the puffin could have been me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Indian flying foxes really do carry a lot of diseases, like all bats, and if you get bitten by one, you could die from any number of a host of exotic viruses. I picked two for the vaccinations that sounded funny to me, not that they're particularly likely as a result of bat-bite. Green Monkey Fever is an old name for Marburg Virus Disease, a very serious ebola-like disease; it doesn't actually have any vaccine. I assume Bryan was vaccinated against the viral form of bubonic plague. Flying foxes really are sacred in India, and believed to be protected by a local spirit. Offerings of rice and bananas are made to the flying foxes and the spirit by Indian villagers.
> 
> Vince wears traditional Indian clothing on the train; the long shirt is called a kurta and the trousers are called churidar, they are tight-fitting but stretchy. It struck me that Indian clothes are very suitable for Vince – there isn't a massive difference between male and female styles of dress, and both sexes may dress in bright colours and patterns. The fact that Vince can wear what to western eyes looks like a loose dress with leggings underneath and yet be wearing male clothing must at the very least make him feel cynical about western ideas of gendered clothing choices.
> 
> Howard and Vince are possibly making out to the “Flash Gordon” soundtrack, which was Queen's latest album; they saw the film in January.
> 
> Sanatogen is a fortified red wine (15% alcohol). It is marketed as a tonic (and in the past, something of a “mother's little helper”), and is presumably the only wine in the house. We know the Moon household keeps spirits on hand, such as vodka, so if Howard was trying to get Vince drunk he had stronger options available. I think in his mind, red wine is seductive and romantic, and they probably only drank a little bit. 
> 
> Howard reads “On the Road”, the autobiographical novel by American Beat writer Jack Kerouac, detailing his travels in the late 1940s against a backdrop of jazz, poetry, and drugs (1957); and “Owen Glendower”, a historical novel by British philosopher, critic, and author, John Cowper Powys (1941). 
> 
> I sent Howard on holiday to Wales in honour of “The Call of the Yeti”, which seems to take place in a North Wales which is also the American backwoods. He stays at Tal-y-llyn, a hamlet in Gwynedd at the southern end of a lake (in English, the lake is called Talyllyn Lake, in Welsh it is Lake Mwyngil). There is a village named Minnfordd at the northern end of the lake, about 2 miles from the hamlet, and the lake is at the foot of Cader Idris in the Snowdonia National Park. All the details about Wales are generally correct, except that the log cabins they stay in are imaginary. 
> 
> Howard's moaning about climbing Cader Idris isn't completely unjustified. They have to walk 2 miles just to get to the start of the path, and the Minnfordd Path is listed as HARD, with a suggested 5-6 hours to complete it. It's 4.4 km to the summit, with some steep climbing. The path back down is not clear, and involves a lot of hopeful bounding through the heather with fingers crossed you're going the right way. Furthermore, they don't seem to have taken any food or water with them, and skip lunch altogether. Despite all this, they seem to complete it in good time, so must have been doing a fair pace, and of course, have another 2 mile walk home when they're done. 
> 
> Welsh lovespoons are elaborately carved spoons, with symbols of love in their design. Back in the 17th century, young men gave them to the girl they were courting to show her parents they were the type of solid industrious fellow who spent his spare time doing fancy woodwork. They are now just decorative craft items, often hung on the wall. It is typical of the sentimental Howard to give one as a love gift and a sign of commitment.
> 
> “Un Chien Andalou” (An Andalusian Dog), a 17-minute 1929 Surrealist film by Salvador Dali and Luis Buñuel. Inspired by dreams, it is a cinema classic. 
> 
> Lake monsters are common in Welsh mythology; they are called afancs and are often described as demons which have both animal and human properties. Quite a number of Welsh rivers and lakes are said to have an afanc, but I made this one up for Talyllyn Lake.


	9. September

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's back to school for a new year, which means that Howard and Vince have restrictions on their relationship. There are several other changes afoot, but Howard can take solace in one very special day he manages to share with Vince on a school trip to London.

**Tuesday 1st**

Mr Singh has had to return to India to look after his aged parents, so Lester has been told that he will have to move back into his dirty old house! Mr Singh says that he cannot trust his womenfolk to be alone in the house with Lester. How stupid can you get? Lester doesn’t mind too much; he said that it is “quite a compliment”.

Vince and I are going to clean Lester's house and help him move back. He owes the council €294 in rent arrears. He has got to pay the arrears off at €0.50 a week, so it is a certainty that Lester will die in debt.

Received a postcard from Leroy. He said he is so bored with Greece, and can't wait for school to start. That's not normal.

**Wednesday 2nd**

We put all the furniture outside and cleaned it with a fungicide disinfectant to kill the woodworm. The floors have been swept, scrubbed, and mopped clean, and Vince used Queenie's carpet shampooer. I thought Lester's carpets were grey, but thanks to Vince I now know one is a red Axminster and the other is a blue Wilton. Vince washed the curtains, but they were so old they fell apart. Queenie helped us to buy new curtains.

**Thursday 3rd**

Lester's house looks great. Everything is dead clean and shiny. We have moved his bed into the lounge so that he can watch television in bed. Queenie has filled the house with flowers, and Dad has made an Alsatian flap in the back door so that Lester doesn’t keep having to get up to answer the door to Sabre. Lester is moving back tomorrow.

**Friday 4th**

Lousy stinking school next week. I tried on my uniform, but I've outgrown it so badly over the summer that my father is being forced to buy me a new uniform. He is going up the wall, but I can't help it that my body has hit a growth spurt, can I?

I am now 10 cm taller than Vince. My thing remains static at 16 cm.

Lester is now in his clean house. He hasn't said thank you, but he seems happy.

**Saturday 5th**

Went shopping for new uniform. Bought two pairs of white shirts, two pairs of grey trousers, two grey pullovers, one navy blue blazer, three pairs black socks, one pair black shoes. Also bought PE shorts and PE vest, tracksuit, trainers, football shorts, football shirt, football socks, football boots and studs, and an Adidas sports bag. Remembered to buy calculator, pen and pencil set, and geometry set.

My father keeps moaning, but he can afford more than one hundred euros. He didn't even use real money, he bought it with American Express!

**Sunday 6th**   
_Twelfth after Trinity. Moon's First Quarter._

Vince and I tried on our new uniforms today. Vince said I look well handsome in mine. I thought I looked boring and conformist, but Vince said think of all the cool rock stars who wear school uniforms. Alice Cooper, Iggy Pop, AC/DC … which proves that uniforms are actually punk and radical.

**Monday 7th**   
_Labor Day, USA and Canada_

An airmail letter from Jack Kodiak.

_Hi Howie!_

_Howya doing? It seems so long since we last rapped, but you're a great human being, Howie. We're in New York, which is blowing my mind. It is nothing like Alaska, and is so far out as to be nuked. There are some real foxes here, but nothing like your girl, who is a cute little fairy doll. Seriously, hang onto her, Howie. Because you turn your back, and a million guys are going to be lined up for her. I mean, if I had one night with that honey, I could die a happy man._

_I hope you're still together, and if not, can I have her number? Just kidding! But seriously, if you ever break up with her, I would be all over that zappy dream rabbit like a wet towel. That's a joke, obviously._

_Anyway, one really weird thing is that my stepfather disappeared one night while jogging in Central Park. Kind of a bummer. I think it may have been a water monster, like the one we heard about in Wales, because my stepfather was jogging around the lake. My mom is sort of traumatised, even though she wasn't that happy with him, and we're both seeing a shrink now. Dr Engelberger is doing great things with my libido._

_School starts soon, what a drag! It's the worst thing about the fall, apart from son of a bitch leaves everywhere._

_See you, buddy!!!!_

_Jack_

Losing one father is a misfortune, losing four seems like more than carelessness, to misquote the play I'm currently reading. And I wish I'd never shown Jack Vince's photo. How easy would it have been to just say “No, I don't have a girlfriend”? Because I couldn't resist showing off, I've got Jack drooling over Vince for the rest of my life.

**Tuesday 8th**

Vince and I got ready for school today. I was sorting through our school supplies, making a pile of stationery, textbooks and pencil case goods for each of us. Vince was covering our exercise books in contact and putting pictures on them. He was using my old magazines to put jazz pictures on mine, and was cutting up _Rolling Stone_ for pictures of punk and new wave artists on his.

I admitted to Vince I was scared to go back to school, and when he asked why, I reminded him that I'd been bullied for months just for _looking_ at Vince. What was going to happen to us if people realised we were together?

Vince said, "Howard, you think that never happened to me?". I said Vince was one of the most popular boys in our class. He replied, "For every person who was nice to me, there were three others calling me a poofter or a little pansy, threatening to beat me up or put my head down the toilet. That's why I joined Bollo's gang. And you're in the gang now too, so you're safe as well".

I asked if everyone in Bollo's gang was gay, and Vince said, "People who need protection". But Leroy is in the gang, what could he need protecting from? Vince said that's Leroy's business. And Vince said we would be careful at school not to get hassled by anyone. He suggested it might even be fun, sneaking around right under everyone's noses.

Vince always makes me feel better. Nothing scares him, and he doesn't worry about anything.

**Wednesday 9th**

Tonight Dad came into my room with the expression that means he's going to have a serious talk. He asked if I had a good summer, and if I was still happy with Vince. I said yes.

Then Dad said that now school is starting, I can't see Vince whenever I want. Mostly just weekends, and even then, only if I've done my homework. And I'm not allowed to spend all night on the phone with him, either.

I asked if he was saying that because Vince is a boy, and he said, "Howard, if Vince was a girl, I would be much, much stricter with you".

And, he said he was also my teacher as well as my father, and it is his duty to remind me that romantic relationships are not permitted at school under any circumstances. Boys and girls, boys and boys, they're all banned. He said to remember the little chat we had with Mr Bainbridge, and how unpleasant he could make my life if I get caught hugging or kissing Vince at school. I said I understood.

Dad said we're only fourteen, and shouldn't be doing much more than holding hands or having a kiss and a cuddle anyway. I said we might have done a little more bit more than that. He said how much more, and I said light to medium petting. Dad didn't know what medium petting was, but he said to scale it back a notch. "Your bodies might be ready for more, but Howard, you're not emotionally ready, okay?".

I nodded. He's probably right. I felt really terrible physically whenever we were really going for it, like I was being stretched too far. I rang Vince to tell him, and he said he'd just had much the same talk from Queenie. He said he didn't mind – we'd see each other every day at school, and we'd both keep up with our homework so we could see each other on weekends as well.

He said he didn't care what we did together. “Just being with you is amazing, Howard. Really”.

**Thursday 10th**

A proud start to the new school year. I am a prefect! My first duty is to be late prefect. I have to wait by the gap in the railings and take the name of anyone sneaking in late to school. Vince has also been recognised for his talents. He is on the football team, and will have a game every weekend, and team practice every Wednesday.

My new timetable was given to me today by my new form tutor, Mr Dock. It includes my O level and CSE lessons, and it is compulsory to do Maths, English, PE and Comparative Religion. But they give you a choice of Cultural and Creative subjects. So I have chosen Media Studies (dead easy, just reading newspapers and watching telly) and Health and Hygiene (learning about sex, I hope). Mr Dock also teaches English Literature, so we are bound to get on. By now I am surely the best-read kid in the school. I will be able to help him out if he gets stuck.

Asked my father for €5.50 for school trip to the British Museum. It will be my first ever trip to London.

**Friday 11th**

Had a long talk with Mr Dock. Explained that my mother has gone to Sheffield, and that Dad and I miss her a lot. Mr Dock said he couldn't give a monkey's, as long as my essays are lucid, intelligent, and unpretentious. So much for pastoral care!

**Saturday 12th**

Wrote lucid, intelligent, unpretentious essay about the wildlife of North Wales in the morning. In the afternoon, did shopping in Budgens with my father. Saw Bob Fossil dithering at the fruit counter. Watched him reject “little crunchy balls” (apples), “leathery suns” (oranges), “brown squishies” (dates), and “sour juices” (grapefruit). He eventually chose rhubarb, which he calls “red penis sticks”. He kept rubbing the rhubarb up and down in front of me in a yucky way.

Fossil has a girlfriend named Eleanor. Fossil introduced us. She took off her sunglasses, and said, “Oh helloooo there, Howard. My my, Bobbsy never told me what very handsome young men attend his Youth Club”. I said I wasn't a man, I was only fourteen. Eleanor said, “You look very mature for your age. Can you tell me where I can get a nice side of beef?”. I pointed her in the direction of the butcher's counter.

**Sunday 13th**   
_Thirteenth After Trinity_

Went to see Vince at the allotments. He is very upset: somebody dobbed them in for having a goat. It's not allowed under the rules, but Queenie got special permission from the council. Now the person who gave her permission is retired, and the allotment association say that Blossom has to go. Vince says Queenie is absolutely gutted, because she can't drink cow's milk.

I gave Blossom a special pat, and a piece of carrot I brought with me. Poor Blossom. Poor Queenie. Poor Vince. We went into Blossom's little hut so I could comfort him.

_Tomorrow is my mother's birthday. She is thirty-seven._

**Monday 14th**   
_Full Moon_

Phoned my mother before school to wish her a happy birthday. She is coming here this weekend for her birthday, so will give her her card and present then.

School dinners are complete crap now. Gravy seems to have been phased out, along with custard and hot puddings. A typical menu is: hamburger, baked beans, chips, carton of yoghurt, or a doughnut. It is not enough to build healthy bone and sinew. I am considering writing a letter of protest to Mrs Thatcher. It won't be our fault if we grow up apathetic and lacking in moral fibre. Perhaps Mrs Thatcher wants us to be too weak to demonstrate in years to come.

**Tuesday 15th**

Barry Kent has been late three times in one week. So it is my unfortunate duty to report him to Mr Bainbridge. Unpunctuality is the sign of a disordered brain. So he cannot go unpunished.

**Wednesday 16th**

Our form is going to the British Museum on Friday. Vince and I are going to sit together on the coach. He is bringing a copy of the _Morning Star_ so that we can have some privacy.

**Thursday 17th**

Had a lecture on the British Museum from Ms Fossington-Gore. She said it was a “fascinating treasure house of personkind’s achievements”. Nobody listened to the lecture. Everyone was watching the way her nipples got stiff and showed through her white blouse whenever she got excited.

**Friday 18th**

It was an early start for our trip to the British Museum, with the coach leaving the school driveway at 7 am. Vince and I got a seat together. The only person from our gang in our form is Claire Neilson, and she was sitting next to a new girl named Julie. From the way the two spent most of the trip giggling and whispering behind old copies of _Wool City Rocker_ , we might have another gang member soon.

When we got to the British Museum, it was obvious almost at once that Ms Fossington-Gore had completely lost control of the group. Everyone was running riot, and doing whatever they felt like. Vince and I were the only ones who really wanted to see the art, and we spent about an hour in the galleries, awestruck by drawings and paintings. It is wonderful watching Vince look at art – he seems to breathe it in, and listening to him talk about art is more educational than anything a teacher could tell you.

When we came out of the British Museum, there was no sign of Form 4-D, or Ms Fossington-Gore. I said to Vince, “Do you want to do something a bit mad?”, and he immediately agreed without even asking what. There was taxi out the front, and we both jumped in the back seat. The driver was this tiny bloke shorter than both of us, wearing midnight blue robes and a turban. His name tag said NABOO.

“Where too?”, Naboo asked, and before I could stop myself I said, “London Zoo, and step on it”.

Vince gave me this excited look, as if he'd never have thought of going to the zoo, but now that we were going, it was the one thing he wanted to do, and nothing could stop him. Naboo didn't even seem to be bothered that we were in school uniform or anything. It was the middle of the day, and maybe he thought we were on a dinner break.

When we got to the zoo, I paid Naboo from a twenty euro note Dad gave me for emergencies, and then I bought two tickets to get in. There weren't many people around, and we looked at everything. The kangaroos, the bats in the Moonlight Room, the lions, and polar bears, and the birds in the Snowdon Aviary. I told Vince about being on top of Mount Snowdon as we walked around that.

I remembered all the dialogue I made up about two men working in a zoo, and Vince kept laughing at everything I said. And then he added new dialogue, and it was even better. Then in the Aquarium, Vince said the octopus was named Tony, and the prawns were evil, and why weren't there any sticklebacks? And I kept laughing and laughing, but trying not to make too much noise, so it was like a gasping sound.

And then the funniest thing happened. I had this weird feeling. As if I was so close to Vince, not only liked Vince and loved Vince and wanted to kiss Vince, but this feeling that I almost _was_ Vince. And the feeling got bigger and stronger and so real it was almost stifling.

I put my arm around Vince's neck, and then he started singing, very softly. Something like, _Why no sticklebacks?_ , and I joined in, something about _Eaten by Tony, Tony snacks Tony snacks_ , and somehow we sang a whole song together about the aquarium and the sea and London Town. And it was beautiful and strange, like the waves of the ocean breaking against Tower Bridge.

And when we finished, neither of us could look at the other, it was this _holy_ feeling like church tries to give you and never does. We should have been giggling, but instead we felt dead solemn, like we'd cracked a secret code, or something magic had happened. And the funniest thing is that we couldn't remember anything of the song, only the feeling it gave us.

I said we'd better get going, and by some sort of miracle, Naboo was still sitting in his taxi outside the zoo, and said he'd take us back to the British Museum. Vince asked Naboo if he was from India, but Naboo answered that he was Peruvian. He must have picked up a Cockney accent dead quickly.

It was a bit past 3 pm when we got to the British Museum. I paid Naboo, and we quickly got out and sat on the steps with the rest of the class. Ms Fossington-Gore seemed to have rounded everyone up and told them to stay there. Some American tourists took photos of me and Vince, saying we were “cute English schoolboys”. The rest of our form asked where we'd been, but we pretended we'd been there all along and after a while they got bored asking us.

Then Ms Fossington-Gore took us on a sightseeing tour of London for about an hour until we ended up at Victoria Station and boarded the coach. We didn't talk much on the way home, but we had a whole set of new memories that were only for us. When we said goodbye, I whispered, “Let's never tell anyone, okay?”, and Vince gave me a grin, and nodded.

**Saturday 19th**

Mum came up from Sheffield for her birthday. Me and Dad met her at the station. She was in a really good mood, I don't know when I've seen her so happy.

When we took her out for tea in a restaurant, she told us that she'd been promoted to Supervisor – she has five people working under her now. And they've taken on more female staff in Sheffield on Mum's recommendation.

“That's wonderful. Let's get champagne”, Dad said, giving a weak smile.

Mum kept getting more and more cheerful. She has joined a women's group in Sheffield, and made some friends. And the other day she broke through the pain barrier at her aerobics class, and now she feels so strong. Mum's never coming home. She's too content living in Sheffield without us.

My champagne tasted a bit sour.

**Sunday 20th**

_Fourteenth after Trinity. Moon's Last Quarter._

I told Mum about our trip to the British Museum. She laughed when I described how the class went completely mental, and said the poor teacher. I told her that Vince and I were only interested in looking at art and culture. “What, for the whole time? It must've been hours”, Mum said. “And why didn't you help the teacher? You're a prefect now”.

I think she must have known I wasn't telling the whole truth, so I said, “Some of what we did was private”. Mum asked if we did anything illegal, or wrong, and I said no. Because going to the zoo isn't wrong. Even if the school found out, we still wouldn't have got into any real trouble.

So she said that's alright then, and what else did you do that isn't private? So I told her about the tourists, and walking through London, and seeing Trafalgar Square, and Buckingham Palace, and stopping in Luton to have tea. Mum said I was really stretching my wings this year. Then she sighed a lot before saying it was nearly time to leave for the station.

**Monday 21st**

Ms Fossington-Gore is on sick leave. All future school trips have been cancelled for the rest of term.

**Tuesday 22nd**

Mr Bainbridge read my report on the British Museum. He gave me two merit marks for it, and said he was glad to hear _I_ had behaved myself, at least.

It was on the news tonight that the British Museum is thinking of banning school parties.

**Wednesday 23rd**   
_Autumn Equinox_

I rang Mum tonight to tell her that I got two merit marks for my report, but she was in quite a bad mood. I don't know how she can go from being happy and cheerful to being so grumpy. She said she'd had a bad day at work, and had a bit of a headache.

**Thursday 24th**

Walked Vince home after Youth Club. It's good the way Bollo arranges it. As we're all leaving, he barks out, “Harold! I order you to escort Vince and protect him!”, and I salute him and say, “Aye aye, Bollo”. So it looks as if I'm just following orders.

We go the long way home so as to spend as much time as possible together. We had a nice time this evening, walking through autumn leaves and sniffing bonfires. When we got to Queenie's house, I gave Vince a kiss on the doorstep – it was dark by then, and besides, the porch wall hides you from view. Queenie tactfully waited a few minutes before switching the front light on.

As I walked home alone, I thought that this is the first year I have been able to look at a chestnut tree without wanting to throw a stick at it. I am growing up very quickly. Perhaps too quickly.

**Friday 25th**

Went out conkering with Leroy tonight. I found five beauties and smashed Leroy's into pulp. Ha! Ha! Ha!

**Saturday 26th**

Took Blossom on a leash to see Lester. He can't walk far these days. Blossom is being donated to a hippie commune in Otley. I hope they treat her well. The hippies already have plenty of goats. They are taking Blossom as an act of charity.

Lester patted Blossom, and said, “Nobody wants either of us, baby girl”. He looked dead sad.

**Sunday 27th**   
_Fifteenth after Trinity_

The hippies came and got Blossom at 10.30 am. I gave her an apple to take her mind off the heartbreak, and then we watched their beaten-up old truck slowly bounce down the road.

It was awful. Vince cried. Queenie put her arms around him, and started sobbing. I put my arms around both of them, and felt choked up. There was nothing I could say to make it better.

**Monday 28th**   
_New Moon_

Lester has got something wrong with his legs. The doctor says he needs daily nursing. I went in today, but he is too heavy for me to lug about. The district nurse thinks Lester will be better off in the Sunshine Lane Residential Care Facility. But I don't think he will. I walk past it on my way to school. It looks like a museum. The old people look like exhibits.

_Lester, you are dead old._   
_Fond of Sabre, curry, and Gauloises._   
_I am fourteen,_   
_You are ninety._   
_You are from America,_   
_I am from Leeds._   
_I can see. You can't._

_People might wonder why we are friends,_   
_but we are linked together through jazz_   
_its syncopated rhythms forming a bond_   
_that will last a lifetime and beyond._

**Tuesday 29th**

Lester doesn't get on with his district nurse. He says he doesn't like his privates being mauled about. It doesn't sound that bad to me.

**Wednesday 30th**

I am glad September is over, it has mostly been trouble. Blossom gone. Vince and Queenie sad. Lester on his last legs. My mother still in Sheffield. My father still lonely.

The only good thing was going to the zoo with Vince, and that didn't officially happen. Sometimes I wonder if it was even real, but then I look at my ticket stub, and I know it was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lester was away from home from eleven weeks, so his rent bill of €294 means he was paying Leeds Council about €26 a week in rent.
> 
> Axminster and Wilton are two different types of woven British carpet (meaning a floor rug), named after the towns where they they originated. 
> 
> Howard rather cynically misquotes from “The Importance of Being Earnest”, a comedic play by Oscar Wilde (1895). In the play, Lady Bracknell says, “To lose one parent, Mr Worthing, may be regarded as a misfortune; to lose both looks like carelessness”. Howard seems to be hinting that he suspects Jack's mother might be behind the disappearances of all her husbands.
> 
> Goats and other livestock really aren't permitted in allotments, unless your allotment association has given you some extraordinary leeway. Sadly, Blossom's days were always numbered. 
> 
> Howard isn't just imagining school dinners getting worse. There had always been an expectation, since the turn of the 20th century, that school dinners would need to fulfil certain nutritional standards. In 1981 the law changed, so that school dinners only needed to make a profit. Immediately, processed and junk food like hamburger patties, chips, and doughnuts made their way onto the menu. Unfortunately, things got worse and worse under this model, until nutritional guidelines were re-introduced in 2006, after a campaign by celebrity chef Jamie Oliver, and have been tweaked several times since. 
> 
> “Wool City Rocker” was a punk fanzine from the neighbouring city of Bradford. It ceased publication in early 1981, so Claire and Julie are reading back issues from the previous year.
> 
> I couldn't resist giving Howard and Vince a visit to the zoo, and it seemed only fitting that Naboo should transport them there. Did you remember that in S1 Naboo was meant to be Peruvian? London Zoo is about two miles from the British Museum, and there really wouldn't have been many people there on a weekday in 1981. Visitor numbers were so low by then they seriously considered closing it down, as there was a growing perception that zoos were cruel to animals. Howard and Vince can only see the “old” parts of the zoo; it's been upgraded and modernised, and made far more appealing for both animals and people since then. A lot of the old enclosures are quite sad, and I can understand why people thought they were cruel. Their inner experience of crimping is my head canon, and I've always thought their first crimp must have been mind blowing.
> 
> It's about two miles from the British Museum to Victoria Station, so around 40 minutes walk. The route would have taken them past Leicester Square, the National Gallery, St Martin-in-the-Fields church, Trafalgar Square, Admiralty Arch, St James Park, the Victoria Memorial, and Buckingham Palace, so they really would have got a lot of sightseeing done. (They caught a bus from Victoria to the British Museum in the morning, but I couldn't find any way of fitting that in naturally). 
> 
> Conkering is playing the children's game of conkers, where one player swings a horse chestnut on a string in an attempt to break that of another player. Throwing sticks at horse chestnut trees loosens the horse chestnuts so they fall to the ground.
> 
> Otley is a market town on the River Wharfe surrounded by farmland, north-west of Leeds. It is included as part of the City of Leeds, even though it's closer to Bradford, and a fair distance away. There are quite a few communes around the Leeds area, even today.


	10. October

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Howard fears that Vince is losing interest in him, and only a huge gesture will do to win him back. After reading “Wuthering Heights”, Howard becomes convinced a weekend on the high moors can save their relationship. But can anything organised by Bob Fossil really rekindle romance? Also, Lester is rehoused, and Howard has to go to hospital for long-scheduled surgery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the Shaman Council for offering much help in choosing an origin story for Bob Fossil. In the end, "The Book of Boosh" provided an answer.

**Thursday 1st**

Vince didn't have lunch with me today. Usually all the gang eats at the same table, Vince opposite me, but today he went and sat with some of his fellow members of the football team. Leroy kicked my ankle and muttered, "Don't turn around", when I was going to look for him. Claire tried to distract everyone by introducing her friend Julie Trafford to the gang, who's moved here from Bradford and is in our form. Julie is a punk on weekends, and her punk name is Ultra.

Vince joined us for yoghurt, calmly saying that he had to discuss the previous night's training with some of his team. He didn't seem to notice how hurt I was by his absence. I think Vince is losing interest in me. He hasn't said anything, but I couldn't help thinking that his kisses lacked their usual passion as we were saying goodnight after youth club.

**Friday 2nd**

_6 pm:_ I am very unhappy, and have once again turned to great literature for solace. It's no surprise to me that intellectuals commit suicide, go mad, or die from drink. We feel things more than other people. We know the world is rotten and football is given more importance than love or friendship. I am reading _One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich_ by Alexander Solzhenitsyn. According to the cover, it is an explosive masterpiece.

 _11.30 pm:_ _One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich_ extremely boring, according to me. I hoped that reading about Stalinist labour camps would raise my spirits, but if anything, I feel even more miserable.

**Saturday 3rd**

Went to see Lester this morning and cleaned his house for him. Did the shopping at Budgens in the afternoon as usual. They are selling Christmas cakes. I can feel my life slipping away.

I am reading _Wuthering Heights_. It is brilliant. If I could get Vince up on the high moors, I am sure that we would regain our old passion.

**Sunday 4th**   
_St Francis of Assisi. Sixteenth after Trinity_

Persuaded Vince to put his name down for the youth club’s wilderness survival course in the Yorkshire Dales. The football team has a bye that weekend, I checked. Bob Fossil is sending an equipment list and permission form to our parents. I have only got two weeks to reach peak condition. I try to do fifty press-ups a night. I try to do them but fail. Seventeen is my best so far.

**Monday 5th**

Lester has been kidnapped by Social Services! They are keeping him at the Sunshine Lane Residential Care Facility. I have been to see him. He is sharing a room with an old man named Thomas Cooper. They have both got their names on their ashtrays. Sabre has a place at a RSPCA hostel.

Our dog has gone missing. It is a portent of doom.

**Tuesday 6th**   
_Moon's First Quarter_

Vince and I went to visit Lester, but it was a waste of time really. His room had a strange effect on us. It made us not want to talk about anything. Lester says he is going to sue Social Services, for depriving him of his rights. He says he has to go to bed at nine-thirty! It is not fair, because he's used to staying up until after _The Epilogue_.

We passed the lounge on the way out. The old people sat around the walls in high chairs. The television was on but nobody was watching it. The old people looked as though they were thinking. Social Services have painted the walls orange to try to cheer people up. It doesn't seem to have worked.

**Wednesday 7th**

Thomas Cooper died in the night. Lester says that nobody leaves the home alive. Lester is the oldest inmate. He is dead worried about dying. He is now the only man in the entire home. Claire says that women outlive men. She says it is a sort of bonus because women suffer more earlier on.

Our dog is still missing. I have put an advert up in Mr Cherry's shop.

**Thursday 8th**

Lester is still alive, so I took Sabre to visit him today. I propped Lester up in the window of his room, and Vince had Sabre on the lawn outside. Lester couldn't see Sabre, but Sabre wagged his tail like mad, and whined and barked. Lester waved to Sabre so he knew he could hear him. Dogs are not allowed in the home. It is another of their poxy rules.

Our dog is still missing, presumed dead.

**Friday 9th**

The matron of the home says that if Lester is dead good he can come out for the day on Sunday. He is coming to our house for dinner and tea.

**Saturday 10th**

I am really worried about our dog. It has vanished off the face of our suburb. Leroy, Vince and I have walked the cul-de-sacs looking for it. I rang my mother to tell her the bad news, and she seemed very depressed. But then, she has always been more fond of the dog than anyone else.

My father is a worry today. He lay in bed until noon, fried a mess in a pan for lunch, opened a bottle of beer, and drank it while watching _Grandstand_. I think he's falling apart. He needs a bath, a haircut, and a shave. It is Parents Night next Tuesday. I have taken his best suit to the cleaners.

I bought a book from W.H. Smith's, it only cost €0.05. It was written by an unsuccessful writer named Cecil Winterbottom; it is called _Cooking for the Geriatric and Infirm_. Lester is coming tomorrow.

**Sunday 11th**   
**Seventeenth after Trinity**

I got up early and cleaned all the furniture out of the hall to make way for Lester's wheelchair. I made my father a cup of coffee and took it up to him, then I started cooking the chicken casserole. I left it on the stove while I went to reawaken my father, and when I came back the onion and bacon were burnt in the pan. I was very disappointed, because I was hoping to impress Vince with my practical talents today. I think he is getting a bit bored with my conversations about great literature and the Danish fur industry. However, I pressed on with it.

Lester insisted on bringing a big trunk with him when Dad went to pick up Vince, and then Lester from the home. What with that and the wheelchair and Lester taking up all the back seat, I was forced to crouch in the hatch of the hatchback. It took ages to get Lester out of the car and into his wheelchair.

Mrs Singh came over and talked Hindi with Lester. She had a look at the chicken casserole, then went through our fridge and pantry and added a tin of tomatoes, half a carton of cream, a spoon of tomato paste, and some curry powder. I said thanks, because she really did make it a lot better than Cecil Winterbottom's recipe. I served it with rice, and in the end you couldn't even really taste the burnt bits. Vince said the casserole was brilliant.

Lester told my father that he is convinced the matron is trying to poison him (Lester, not my father), but my father said that all institutional food is the same. When it was time to go home, Lester started crying. He said, “Don’t make me go back there”, and other sad things. My father explained that we didn’t have the skills to look after him at our house, so Lester was wheeled to the car (although he kept putting the brake of the wheelchair on). He asked us to keep his trunk at our house. He said it was to be opened on his death. The key is round his neck on a bit of string.

Vince blew me a kiss when it was time to drop him off at Queenie's. Dog is still AWOL.

**Monday 12th**   
_Columbus Day, USA. Thanksgiving, Canada._

Went to the Off the Streets Youth Club tonight. Bob Fossil gave us a lecture on survival techniques. He said the best thing to do if you are suffering from hypothermia is to climb into a plastic bag with a naked woman. His girlfriend Eleanor said, “I'm available if any of you boys want to climb in”. I noticed she looked at me when she said it. Vince giggled, and whispered, “I think you're in there, Howard”. Just my luck to get stuck on a mountain with a nymphomaniac!

RIP Dog.

**Tuesday 13th**   
_Full Moon_

Had an angry phone call from Nana to ask when we were coming to collect the dog! It has been there since the 4th of October. Dad went to tea with my grandparents that day, and all we can think is that the dog must have slunk into the back seat and hid, then crawled out when Dad wasn't looking, and stayed behind. Meanwhile, my grandparents thought Dad brought the dog over to them for some reason.

We went straight over to collect the dog, and were shocked by the dog's condition. It looks old and grey. In human years, it is eleven. In dog years, it should be drawing a pension. I have never seen a dog age so quickly. Those ten days with my grandparents must have been hell. They are very strict.

**Wednesday 14th**

Vince and Queenie came with me when I visited Lester today. Lester said, “Now who is this dainty little doll you got with you, Howard? I can smell perfume that's like apple blossom”. And Queenie said, “Well, haven't you kissed the Blarney Stone? I adore your accent, lovey. I could listen to you talk all day”. After Vince walked Queenie home, Lester said, “You see Howard, I always did know how to chat to the ladies”.

Queenie is knitting matching beanies for me and Vince to wear on our wilderness survival weekend. It's very kind of her. Did thirty-six and a half press-ups tonight.

**Thursday 15th**

Went to the youth club to try yukky, lousy old walking boots for size. Bob Fossil has hired them from a mountaineering shop. Vince has to wear three pairs of socks to make his fit. Six of us are going. Bob Fossil is leading us. He is unqualified, but says he is experienced in surviving bad conditions because he lived at the bus station in Omaha, Nebraska the whole time he was in college.

After youth club, Vince and I went to Budgens and bought our survival food. We have got to carry our food and equipment in our rucksacks, so weight is an important factor. I could hardly carry my survival food home from Budgens, so how I will manage it on a march across the hills I don't know! My father suggested packing the rucksack more efficiently, and helped me with it.

**Friday 16th**

Have decided not to take my diary this weekend. I cannot guarantee it will not be read by hostile eyes. Besides, it won't fit in my rucksack.

Must finish now, the minibus is outside, parping its hooter.

**Saturday 17th**

**Sunday 18th**   
_Eighteenth after Trinity_

_8 pm:_ It is wonderful to be back in civilisation after two days of living like an ignoble savage! Bob Fossil's idea of teaching us about the wilderness was to dump us in pairs somewhere in the Yorkshire Dales, and then shout, “So long, suckers!”, as he drove the minivan away.

Vince and I quarrelled the first night. He was in a mood because I convinced him to come on the wilderness survival weekend, and I was cross because I had to put up the tent and light the primus stove by myself. Vince said he could build a shelter out of trees and light a fire without matches, but he didn't know how to put up a tent or light a paraffin stove.

Neither of us brought a tin opener, and we were just about to start shouting at each other when I remembered there was one on the pen knife Dad gave me. I showed Vince how you could open tins and cook them straight on the stove. We had stewed steak with potatoes and carrots, followed by bread and butter. Once we'd washed our tins and set them to dry, I made a cup of tea by boiling water in a tin, and we had a biscuit each.

It was freezing cold, so we got into our sleeping bags in the tent to drink our tea and eat our biscuits. The tea tasted a little bit like carrot. It was funny how we stopped arguing once we'd had something to eat. Vince got some sweets out of his pocket, and shared his Raspberry Bootlaces with me. I put my arms around Vince to keep him warm, and he put his head on my chest.

Vince asked why I'd wanted to go on the survival weekend. I admitted it was because of _Wuthering Heights_ , and how romantic the wild Yorkshire moors were. Vince snorted, and said he should've known it was going to be because of some mental book. I said it was also because I thought he was getting bored with me, and wanted him to know I wasn't just a bookworm, I could be a man of action as well.

Vince said he wasn't bored with me, and I was a stupid tit for thinking he was, but he did actually like the whole man of action thing. So I tried getting all man of action on him, and I think he did like it. I got to sleep all night cuddled up with Vince, but we were each wearing four layers of clothing and cocooned in sleeping bags, so nothing much could happen.

The next morning while we were having our cornflakes, I got out the map and decided that as we were in three pairs, and there were three major peaks in the Yorkshire Dales, and Vince and I were the youngest pair, they would have dumped us near the smallest of the peaks, which was Pen-y-Ghent. I said we should climb it, and survey the countryside from the top.

It wasn't hard getting to the top, and pretty soon we came across walking paths marked TO PEN-Y-GHENT, so we knew we were on the right track. We ate our lunch on the summit (I'd made cheese sandwiches, packed biscuits, and Vince had got a bottle of water from the beck). We could see a village on the other side of the mountain, and would have walked there except it started to drizzle, so we walked back to camp, and snuggled into our tent, listening to the rain and drinking tea. We talked about everything, and Vince had a little sleepie on me before I made instant noodles with tuna and cheese for tea.

This morning I looked at the map and said we should walk to Plover Hill, which was a fairly easy hike, and then go right around to Hull Pot, which is a big hole in the ground with a waterfall dropping into it. That was much harder, and I wished I'd had room to pack a camera when we got there. Vince complained that his feet hurt, so we went straight back to camp and I made some sort of dish with tinned potatoes, eggs, and cheese for dinner that I decided to call potato omelette. I tried making toast on the primus but it didn't work well.

Afterwards the mist rolled in, and everything looked very mysterious and romantic. Vince said what about this book, then? I tried describing it, how Cathy and Heathcliff ran to each other across the moors, and their forbidden love. Vince said, like that Kate Bush song?, and he got a bit interested in what I was telling him. Then he said we would act it out, so we ran around in the mist calling out our names, and finally met with a hug and a kiss on the top of the mountain. I think it was so misty that nobody could see us.

Then Vince gave a scream, and fell down, and said he'd hurt his ankle. I thought he might need a doctor, so I picked him up and started carrying him towards the village on the other side. You wouldn't think how heavy a skinny little thing like Vince is to carry, and I kept having to stop and rest. I was so glad when I saw the Mountain Rescue Headquarters through the mist, and I could carry Vince there instead of going all the way to the village.

The Mountain Rescue doctor examined Vince, and said he'd sprained his ankle. He bandaged it, and told him off for wearing boots too big for him. I said our youth club leader made Vince wear them, and he couldn't believe we had been abandoned in the mountains all weekend by a youth club. They drove us in their Landrover to get our camping gear, and then the rescue chief said we'd better round up the rest of them.

They found Bob Fossil leading the rest of the youth club team on a forced hike across the moors in the mist. Bob Fossil had fallen into a beck, and was soaking wet. They told Bob Fossil off for not having a map or a compass, but Bob Fossil he didn't need them – he knew the Yorkshire Dales like the back of his hand. They pointed out Bob Fossil was seven miles from his camp site, and going in the wrong direction. The Mountain Rescue chief threatened to report Bob Fossil, and drove us back to the minivan in a temper.

I shall now sleep in a bed for the first time in two days. No school tomorrow because of blisters (or in Vince's case, a sprained ankle and blisters).

**Monday 19th**

I have got to rest my feet for two days. Doctor Gray was very unpleasant: he said that he resented being called out for a few foot blisters.

I was very surprised at his attitude. It is a well-known fact that mountaineers get gangrene of the toes.

**Tuesday 20th**

_Moon's Last Quarter_

Here I am, lying in bed and unable to walk due to excruciating pain, and my father has chosen to go to work rather than take care of me!

If my mother doesn't come home soon I will end up deprived and maladjusted. I am already neglected.

**Wednesday 21st**

Hobbled to school. All the teachers were wearing their best clothes because it is Parents Evening tonight. My father was wearing his best suit, and had trimmed his beard. He looked okay, thank God!

I phoned Mum to remind her it was Parents Evening, and she started weeping. She never got sentimental about Parents Evening before. She said, “Howard, was I a terrible mother to you?”. I said she still _is_ my mother. She cried harder then. Perhaps she is finally realising where her duty lies.

When Dad got home, I asked how it went, and he said all my teachers said I was a credit to the school. I asked how Barry Kent's father looked, and Dad said, “Sick as a pig by the time I'd finished with him”. Ha! Ha! Ha!

**Thursday 22nd**

Limped half-way to school. Dog followed me. Limped back home. Shut dog in house. Limped all the way to school. Fifteen minutes late. Mr Bainbridge said it was not setting a good example for the late prefect to be late. It is all right for him to talk! He can drive to school in a Ford Cortina and then all he has to do is be in charge of a school. I have got a lot of problems and no car.

**Friday 23rd**

I have had a letter from the hospital to say that I have got to have my tonsils out on Tuesday the twenty-seventh. This has come as a complete shock to me! My father says I have been on the waiting list since I was five years old! So I have had to endure an annual bout of tonsillitis for nine years just because the National Health Service is starved of finance!

Why can’t midwives remove babies’ tonsils at birth? It would save a lot of trouble, pain and money.

**Saturday 24th**

_United Nations Day_

Made my father take me shopping for new dressing gown, slippers, pyjamas, and toiletries. He moaned as usual, and said why couldn't I wear my old night clothes in hospital. I told him I looked ridiculous in my Peter Pan dressing gown and Rupert the Bear pyjamas. Apart from the yucky design, they are too small and covered in patches.

My father said that when he was a lad, he slept in a nightshirt made from two coal sacks. I rang Nana to check this statement, and she said they were not coal sacks, but flour sacks. So now I know my father is a pathological liar!

The shopping bill came to €54.19 before fruit, chocolate, or Lucozade. Vince said I looked just like Cary Grant in my new bri-nylon dressing gown.

**Sunday 25th**   
_Nineteenth after Trinity. British Summer Time ends._

Phoned my mother to tell her about my coming surgical ordeal. Not home. Typical. She is too busy gallivanting around to comfort her only child!

Grandpa rang and said Nana knew somebody who knew somebody who knew somebody who had their tonsils out and bled to death on the operating table. He ended by saying, “Don't worry, Howard. I'm sure everything will be right for you”.

Thanks a million, Grandpa!

**Monday 26th**   
_Bank Holiday in the Rep. of Ireland_

_11 am:_ I did my packing, then went to see Lester. He is sinking fast, so it could be the last time we ever see each other. Lester also knows somebody who bled to death after having their tonsils extracted. I hope it's the same person.

Said goodbye to Vince early this morning. He got a bit tearful, and told me to take my elephant with me to hospital for good luck. He said a friend of Queenie had a cyst removed and didn't come out of the anaesthetic. I'm being admitted to Ivy Swallow Ward at 2 pm Greenwich Mean Time.

 _6pm:_ My father has just left after four hours of waiting around for permission to leave. I have had every part of my body examined. Liquid substances have been taken from me. I have been weighed, bathed, measured, prodded, and poked, but nobody has looked in my throat!

I have put our _Reader's Digest Illustrated Family Medical Encyclopedia_ on the bedside table so that the doctors see it and are impressed. I can't tell what the rest of the ward is like because the nurses have forgotten to remove the screens. A notice has been hung over my bed. It says LIQUIDS ONLY. I am dead scared.

 _10 pm:_ I am starving! A nurse has taken all my food and drink away. I am supposed to go to sleep, but it is like bedlam here. Old men keep falling out of bed.

 _Midnight:_ There is a new notice over my bed. It says NIL BY MOUTH. I am dying of thirst! I would give my right arm for a can of Low Cal.

**Tuesday 27th**   
_New Moon_

_4 am:_ I am dehydrated!

 _6 am:_ Just been woken up! Operation is not until 10 am. So why couldn't they let me sleep? I have got to have another bath. I have told them it is the inside of my body that is being operated on, but they don't listen.

 _7 am:_ A nurse stayed in the bathroom to make sure I didn't drink any water (out of the bath??????). She kept staring, so I had to put a hospital sponge over my thing.

 _7.30 am:_ I am dressed like a lunatic, ready for the operation. I have had an injection. It is supposed to make you sleepy but I am wide awake listening to a row about a patient's lost notes.

 _8 am:_ My mouth is completely dry. I shall go mad with thirst. I haven't had a drink since nine forty-five last night. I feel very floaty. The cracks in the ceiling are very interesting. I have got to find somewhere to hide my diary. I don't want prying nosy parkers reading it.

 _8.30 am:_ My mother is at my bedside! She took the early train to get here. She is going to put my diary in her organiser-handbag. She is the only person I trust not to read it. Whatever her faults, she is a woman of honour.

 _8.45 am:_ My mother has gone to the toilet. She is looking very pale, and really old and haggard. I think her busy lifestyle has finally caught up with her.

 _9 am:_ The operating trolley keeps coming into the ward and dumping unconscious men onto beds. The trolley-pushers are wearing green overalls and wellingtons. There must be a lot of blood on the floor of the theatre!

 _9.15 am:_ The trolley is coming in my direction!

 _Midnight:_ I am devoid of tonsils. I am in a torrent of pain. My mother has been here all day and evening. It took her thirteen minutes to find my diary. She doesn't know her way around her organiser-handbag yet. It has got seventeen compartments.

**Wednesday 28th**

I am unable to speak. Even groaning causes agony.

**Thursday 29th**

I have been moved to a side ward. My suffering is too much for other patients to bear.

Received a get well card from Lester and Sabre.

**Friday 30th**

I was able to sip a little of Nana's broth today. She brought it in a Thermos flask for me. My father brought me crisps. He might as well have offered me razor blades to eat!

Vince came at visiting time, I had little to whisper to him. Conversation palls when one hangs between life and death.

**Saturday 31 st**

_Hallowe’en_

_3 am:_ I have been forced to complain about the noise coming from the nurses’ home. I am sick of listening to (and watching) drunken nurses and off-duty policemen cavorting around the grounds dressed as witches and wizards. Nurse Boldry was doing something particularly unpleasant with a pumpkin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you can't figure it out, Claire and Julie get their punk names from letters in their real names: claire NEilsON and jULie TRAfford. 
> 
> Howard reads “One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich” by Russian Nobel Prize-winning author Alexander Solzhenitsyn, a novella which gives a blow-by-blow description of one ordinary day in a labour camp in the Soviet gulag system (1962); and “Wuthering Heights”, the classic Gothic novel by Yorkshire novelist Emily Brontë (1847). "Cooking for the Geriatric and Infirm" is a fictional book, while the “Reader's Digest Illustrated Family Medical Encyclopedia” (1976) is real. 
> 
> “The Epilogue” was the final show on television on Sunday nights, just before TV stopped broadcasting for the day (around midnight). It was a 5-10 minute sermon on a reflective theme usually delivered by a Christian priest or minister. Originally on the BBC, it moved to ITV, and was dropped in 1988 when late-night broadcasting began.
> 
> “Grandstand” was the long-running Saturday sports round-up, shown on BBC One from 12.30 pm to 5.10 pm. Howard's dad seems to be spending a pretty normal Saturday for a lot of men, despite Howard's fear that he is falling apart. 
> 
> A primus stove is a tiny camping stove with kerosene (paraffin) used as the fuel. Invented in 1892, they became essential for anyone climbing Everest or exploring the Arctic regions, and the design didn't change for about a century. Primus was the standard cooking stove used for hiking and camping in the 1970s and '80s. Howard does very well heating multiple cans on a single-burner stove to create a meal, and even does a bit of basic camp cookery. 
> 
> The youth club's wilderness survival weekend is in the Yorkshire Dales National Park, about an hour's drive from Leeds. Howard's theory is that Bob Fossil chose to leave each of the pairs near one of the three biggest peaks in the Dales – Whernside, Ingleborough, and Pen-y-Ghent. We never find out if he is right, but Howard and Vince are definitely left near the third one. They seem to have been left somewhere between Pen-y-Ghent and Plover's Hill, which is actually impossible unless Bob Fossil drove the minibus illegally along hiking paths (which sounds totally believable). Pen-y-Ghent has an easy well-marked walking path and then quite a steep scramble to the summit, though still much easier than the climb Howard did in Wales. The village that they could see on the other side is Horton-in-Ribbesdale. There are Mountain Rescue teams in the Dales, but the headquarters I gave them are fictional.
> 
> The Ford Cortina was the best-selling car of the 1970s. 
> 
> Bri-Nylon was a trademark for British Nylon, considered luxurious in the 1960s.
> 
> The only movie I can think of where Cary Grant swans around in a man's dressing-gown is “My Favourite Wife”, a screwball comedy with Irene Dunne (1940). The dressing gown in question is leopard print, leading to the possibility that's what Howard's dressing gown is too. More intriguingly, Cary Grant wears a woman's dressing gown in “Bringing Up Baby”, a screwball comedy with Katherine Hepburn (1940). Hepburn's character steals all his clothes, forcing him to wear her satin peignoir with feather trimming. When questioned as to his eccentric attire, he explains it by saying, “I just went gay all of a sudden!”. This is one of the first uses of the word “gay” to mean “homosexual” in film. Is it possible that Vince is simply saying that Howard looks deliciously gay in his new dressing gown?
> 
> Ivy Swallow may well be related to the Mr Swallow who lives in the next street and they ran into on holiday (August). Like Moon, Swallow is a surname which has its highest concentration in the Leeds area.


	11. November

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Howard is beset by various medical problems, but comes up with a way to get his work published. Howard's mother dramatically reveals her secret, which will change everything forever.

**Sunday 1st**   
_All Saints Day. Twentieth after Trinity._

The nurses have been very cold towards me. They say that I am taking up a bed that could be used by an ill person! I have got to eat a bowl of cornflakes before they let me out. So far I have refused: I cannot bear the pain.

**Monday 2nd**   
_All Souls Day_

Nurse Boldry forced a spoon of cornflakes down my ravaged throat, then, before I could digest it, she started stripping my bed. She offered to pay for a taxi, but I told her that I would wait for my father to come and carry me out to the car.

**Tuesday 3rd**   
_Election Day, USA_

I am in my own bed. Vince is a tower of strength. He and I communicate without words. My voice has been damaged by the operation.

**Wednesday 4th**

Today I croaked my first words for a week. I said, "Dad, phone Mum and tell her I am over the worst". My father was overcome with relief. His laughter was close to hysteria.

**Thursday 5th**   
_Guy Fawkes Day. Moon's First Quarter._

Dr Grey came to examine my malfunctioning voice box. He says it is normal for your voice to sound different after having your tonsils out, and it will go back to how it was within a few weeks. He is always in a bad mood!

He expected me to stagger to his surgery and queue in a germ-laden waiting room! He said I ought to be outdoors with other lads of my age building a bonfire. I told him I am too old for such paganistic rituals. He said he was forty-seven, and still enjoyed a good burn up.

Forty-seven! It explains a lot. He should be pensioned off.

**Friday 6th**

My father is taking me to an organised bonfire party tomorrow (provided I am up to it, of course). It is being held to raise funds for the Allotment Association.

Queenie is cooking the food, and The Man Council are doing the fireworks. My father is in charge of the bonfire, so I'm going to stand at least two hundred metres away. I have seen him singe his eyebrows many times.

Last night irresponsible people down our street had bonfire parties in their own back gardens!

Yes!

In spite of being warned of all the dangers by the radio, television, _Blue Peter_ , and the media, they selfishly went ahead. There were no accidents, but surely this was only due to luck.

**Saturday 7th**

The Allotment Association bonfire party was massive. It was a good community effort. The Man Council did an amazing job with the fireworks, they looked magic, and all the food Queenie made got eaten. Vince and I ate sausage sandwiches and drank hot apple cider. It was dark and crowded, and I don't think anyone noticed Vince had his hand in my coat pocket so I could hold it.

Mr Singh and all the little Singhs brought Indian fireworks, they are much louder than English ones. Nobody was seriously hurt, but I think it was a mistake to hand out fireworks just as the food was being served. We all helped pack up at the end, and Dad drove Queenie and Vince home when it was over.

**Sunday 8th**   
_Remembrance Sunday. Twenty-first after Trinity._

Our street is full of acrid smoke. I walked past the bonfire. It is a pit of hot ashes.

Went to see Lester, but they said he had gone to the Remembrance Service with Queenie.

**Monday 9th**

Back to school. Asked Vince about Lester going out with Queenie, but Vince said he was at football and didn't know anything about it.

**Tuesday 10th**

My nipples have swollen! I am turning into a girl!

**Wednesday 11th**   
_Veteran's Day, USA. Remembrance Day, Canada. Full Moon._

Dr Gray has struck me off his list! He said nipple-swelling is common in boys. Usually they get it when they are around twelve or thirteen, but Dr Gray said that I am physically and emotionally immature! How can I be immature? I have had a rejection letter from the BBC! And how could I have walked to the surgery with swollen nipples?

Dr Gray says that the swollen nipples might last for as long as three years! I will have to hide myself away as a freak of nature, growing ever more lonely and ashamed.

**Thursday 12th**

Told Mr Jones I couldn't do PE because of swollen nipples. He was extremely crude in his reply. I don't know what they teach them at teacher training college.

**Friday 13th**

Had a frank talk with Vince about my nipple deformity. I allowed him into my darkened bedroom, and confessed that I had become a mutant with swollen nipples. Vince immediately asked to see them! I demurred out of shame, but he didn't listen, and undid all my buttons and pulled up my vest. Vince said my swollen nipples were sexy, and he licked and sucked them for ages. I found it very pleasurable. Maybe having swollen nipples for a year or two won't be so bad.

Vince said he could help me choose clothes that would hide my nipples, although he said if it was him, he would be showing them off. He suggested wearing a very tight vest underneath my normal vest for PE so that the nipples don't show. Vince is brilliant, why couldn't anyone else give practical help like this?

**Saturday 14th**

Went to see Lester Corncrake, but he was out with Queenie again. Queenie was pushing his chair around the leisure centre.

So I went to see Vince instead, and asked if he wanted to go into town. It took him ages to get ready, but he did look very pretty. People stared a bit on the bus, but once we went into Jumbo Records it was alright. There were punk men wearing much more make-up and jewellery than Vince had on.

I bought this dead genius LP by a jazz-funk band called Level 42. There is a good song on it called _Love Games_. The lead singer is the greatest jazz-funk slap guitarist in history. When I listen to the album, I feel half like giving up, because I'll never be as good as Mark King.

Vince bought the latest LP by Adam and the Ants. He has a crush on Adam Ant. It's a bit annoying. How am I meant to compete with a famous pop star?

**Sunday 15th**   
_Twenty-second after Trinity_

I am reading _2001: A Space Odyssey_ by Arthur C. Clarke. It is dead brill. I wish I had an intellectual friend I could discuss great literature with.

I can talk about jazz with my Dad and Lester, but Dad isn't in the mood any more, and Lester is always out whenever I call in these days.

**Monday 16th**

Came home from school with a headache. All the noise and shouting and bullying is getting me down. Surely teachers should be better behaved?

**Tuesday 17th**

My father is a serious worry to me. Even the continuing news of Princess Diana's pregnancy has failed to cheer him up.

Nana has already knitted three pairs of bootees, and sent them off care of Buckingham Palace. She is very patriotic.

**Wednesday 18th**   
_Moon's Last Quarter_

_Trees in Autumn_

The trees are stark naked  
Their autumnal clothes  
Litter the pavements.  
Council sweepers apply fire  
Thus creating municipal pyres.  
We breathe in their smoke,  
Your hand in my pocket  
Where nobody can see it.  
I hold you in my coat,  
Wishing you were as bare as the trees.

I have copied it out carefully and sent it to Terry Wogan at the BBC. He strikes me as a man who might like poems about autumn leaves.

I have got to get something published, or Vince will lose all respect for me.

**Thursday 19th**

Had a dead brilliant idea as to how I can get published – we could start our own magazine! I talked about it with everyone during school dinner, and they were all in favour. I am calling the magazine _New Voices_.

And guess what? Bollo really likes that song _Love Games_. I asked how he even knew about Level 42, and he said he likes all dance music, with a particular interest in funk. I have asked Bollo to write an article on funk for the magazine, while I will cover great jazz guitarists of the twentieth century.

**Friday 20th**

Discussed the magazine with everyone during dinner. Vince volunteered to write a piece on allotment gardening, and Leroy said he would help (he never stopped tutoring Vince, even after the Good Samaritans finished). Leroy himself has written an article on racing bike maintenance. It is very boring, but I have to accept it.

Claire has submitted a punk poem, illustrated by Julie. It is very avant-garde, but I am not afraid to break new ground.

_Up Yours, Society!_

Society is puke  
Spit and vomit  
On the Union Jack  
Sid is Vicious  
Johnny's rotten  
England is dead  
Its corpse stinks  
Killed by greyness  
Cesspit of Europe.  
Hail the punks  
Kings and queens  
Of the street.

She wants it put in under her punk name, Neon, because her father is a Conservative councillor.

**Saturday 21st**

I spent all day at Vince's working on the magazine. Queenie has a box of stencils from the Leeds branch of The Communist Party, and is typing up all our submissions. I am half-way through writing an article on stationery management called _Time and the Pencil: A New Way of Seeing_.

Too busy to visit Lester. I'll try to pop in tomorrow.

**Sunday 22nd**   
_Last after Trinity_

I have written my first editorial for the magazine, which I hope will rock the school to its foundations.

_Hi kids!_

_Welcome to your very own magazine – written, illustrated, and produced entirely by students at our school. Yes! We do use child labour. I have tried to break new ground in this first edition. If you are interested in both jazz and funk, would like to read some savagely critical punk poetry, and have a hankering to know what to do with your spare pencils, you need go no further than this magazine. But the fun doesn't stop there! For those unaware of the miracle of allotment gardens, or the joys of racing bike maintenance, you're in for a wild ride. So hang on to your hats!_

_Howard Moon, Editor in Chief_

We're going to charge €0.25.

**Monday 23rd**

Got a Christmas card from my grandparents. They are always the first.

Forgot to call round and see Lester. Vince and I were too busy putting the paper to bed after school. That means to prepare it for printing. I would like to put Vince to bed.

**Tuesday 24th**

Leroy has gone off in a sulk because I edited his article. I tried to explain that's what editors do, and that 1500 words on bicycle spokes is just too much. Thank God Vince and Bollo are more reasonable.

 _New Voices_ goes on sale tomorrow. Must go and see Lester when all this is over.

**Wednesday 25th**

We have been hit by a wildcat strike! Mrs Claricoates, the school secretary, has refused to handle _New Voices_. She says there is nothing in her job description that says she has to mess about with school magazines.

We offered to duplicate the copies ourselves, but Mrs Claricoates says that she alone “knows how to work the wretched thing”. I am in despair. Hours of work wasted!

**Thursday 26th**   
_Thanksgiving Day, USA. New Moon._

Queenie photocopied _New Voices_ on the Communist Party's machine. She risked getting into trouble if she was caught, but she said she couldn't bear to see us disappointed after everything we've been through. She is a true heroine to the cause of literature.

Vince and I stayed up late folding all the sheets into magazines. Dad is letting me spend time with Vince during the week because working on a school magazine counts as group homework. Besides, there is no time for anything except work, and Queenie is with us.

**Friday 27th**

We had five hundred copies of _New Voices_ when we arrived at school. Free copies went to contributors, so Vince, Leroy, Claire, Julie, Bollo, Chinquo, and I got a copy (Chinquo apparently loaned Bollo a lot of his records for the piece on funk). That left 493.

We donated five copies to the school's English department, and another five copies to the school library. I sent a copy to Terry Wogan, to show him that I am now a published author, a copy to Mr Bainbridge to show we still got it done even without any help from the school, and a copy to Queenie, in gratitude for saving us when we hit rock bottom. That left 480.

Four hundred and eighty copies of New Voices went on sale in the dinner hall today. Four hundred and eighty copies were locked in the games cupboard by the end of the afternoon. Not one copy was sold! Not one! My fellow pupils are nothing but Philistines and morons!

We are dropping the price to €0.20 on Monday.

My mother phoned this evening, wanting to speak with my father. I told her he was on a fishing weekend with The Man Council.

**Saturday 28th**

A telegram! Addressed to me! I hoped it was from the BBC, but instead it was from my mother:

HOWARD STOP COMING HOME STOP

What does she mean, “stop coming home?”. I live here. What am I meant to do, spend the rest of my life wandering the streets? Honestly, adults get the strangest ideas.

**Sunday 29th**   
_Advent Sunday_

My mother has just turned up with no warning, and all her luggage. Dad asked what she was doing here, and Mum cried, “I've lost my job!”. Dad started saying the insurance company was a bunch of bastards and we'd sue and make them pay and bankrupt them, because Mum was the best thing that ever happened to them, and how could they sack her, anyway?

Then Mum opened her coat and said, “I'm pregnant!”, bursting into tears. My thin mother isn't thin any more, not in the middle. Dad went white, and said how far along are you, and Mum said three months. They both looked at each other, and said “Wales” at the same time. Dad wanted to know how was it possible when he always wore a rubber johnny? “Not in the woods, you didn't”, wailed Mum, and threw herself into Dad's arms.

I tactfully withdrew to my bedroom, where I am now trying to work out how I feel. I'm over the moon about Mum coming home, but horrified to discover she is with child. I will be a laughing stock at school, for one thing. I hope they don't expect me to share my room with it. There's no way I'm getting up in the night to give it a bottle. And what about my A Levels in two year's time? How can I study with a toddler smashing up the place?

 _10 pm:_ Kissed my poor pregnant mother goodnight. She said, “Are you pleased about the baby, Howard?”. I lied and said yes.

**Monday 30th**   
_St Andrew's Day_

I told Vince my mother is pregnant. He got really excited, and said how wonderful it was. “You're going to be a brother, Howard! Isn't that what you've always wanted?”. I didn't have the heart to tell him what I'd always wanted was to be the greatest jazz guitarist in the world, and I wasn't even sure if I'll be allowed to _play_ guitar once the baby arrives.

I told Leroy, and he said, “I didn't think it was possible at their age. No offence, mate. Oh, and congratulations, I guess”. I asked them both to keep it quiet for a while.

My father has been put in charge of the school play! I immediately asked if I could both write and star in it, and Dad eventually said okay. He is too worried about the baby to argue about anything. Yes! Finally I'm in a position to benefit from nepotism!

My mother and father are in bed, and it's only 9 pm! I suppose Mum can't get any _more_ pregnant.

The dog is very pleased my mother is back. It has been going about smiling all day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone acts as if Howard is a terrible hypochondriac and malingerer, but having your tonsils out is really, really painful. It is normal to not want to eat for several days afterwards, and nobody except Nana seems to offer Howard anything soothing, such as yoghurt, ice lollies, or cold custard. It's normal to not talk for several days either, and pain relief isn't even mentioned. I hope it occurred and just isn't written about. All in all, his medical treatment is distinctly uncaring.
> 
> This is the first time we see The Man Council actually do something charitable to help the community. It's possible that at least some of the booze-ups Howard's father has been on were fundraisers for various community causes. 
> 
> “Blue Peter” is a children's television program which began on the BBC in 1958, making it the longest-running children's program still in existence. Each year they do a special for Guy Fawkes Day, where historical information is provided alongside the firework code and safety tips for bonfires.
> 
> Howard develops pubertal gynecomastia, where a young boy develops a small amount of breast tissue under one or two nipples. It affects at least half of all boys, and generally goes away on its own. Dr Gray is a horrible doctor, and should not have said Howard is "immature" for developing it at 14 and a half (which is perfectly normal anyway)! Nor does he offer Howard any practical solutions. Lucky he has Vince. My head canon is that Howard got into the habit of wearing baggy clothing and layers to hide his nipples, and never really got out of it. 
> 
> The record that Howard buys is Level 42s debut self-titled album, released in August 1981. Level 42 helped popularise jazz-funk music during the 1980s, and the band and Mark King's skills as a slap-bass guitarist are mentioned in the “Hitcher” episode on the Mighty Boosh TV show. “Love Games” was the first single, making it into the Top 40 and getting the band a gig on “Top of the Pops”. It was one of the inspirations for the song “Love Games” in “The Legend of Old Gregg” episode on the Mighty Boosh TV show.
> 
> Vince buys the album “Prince Charming” by Adam and the Ants on the very day it is released. The singles from it, “Stand and Deliver” and “Prince Charming”, both went to #1 earlier in the year. It was the band's last album, with Adam Ant becoming a solo artist after that. 
> 
> They visit Jumbo Records, a record store in Leeds which first opened in 1971, and which was a favourite hangout of Julian's when he was young. 
> 
> Howard reads “2001: A Space Odyssey” by English sci-fi author Arthur C. Clarke, written concurrently with the film version (1968).
> 
> Buckingham Palace announced that Prince Charles and his wife Diana were expecting their first child on November 5 1981. The princess was reported to be in excellent health and everyone delighted, in an announcement which was seen as chatty rather than formal, while Diana spoke openly to the media about her pregnancy. The baby was expected to be named George, Edward, Philip, or David if a boy, and either Frances or Elizabeth if a girl.
> 
> It's been illegal since 1975 to sack someone for being pregnant in the UK. Nonetheless, it happened, and still goes on today. There's some tricky clever legal loophole ways to do it, or you can openly flout the law, knowing the pregnant woman is probably too poor and stressed to follow through with a legal case against you. Howard's mum never actually says she was sacked for being pregnant, just that she'd lost her job. They may have seen her condition and simply told her that her position was being eliminated, leaving her with little recourse. And she no doubt wanted to go back to her family, rather than stay in Sheffield and fight it.


	12. December

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A traditional Christmas special to finish the year and say goodbye to 1981.
> 
> (If anyone is interested, I have begun to write a sequel ... Will start posting next year if you'd like to see it).

**Tuesday 1st**

When I got home from school, I made a big fuss over my poor pregnant mother. I made her a cup of coffee and insisted she put her feet up on the sofa. I put a cushion behind her head and gave her the _Radio Times_ to read. I've seen it done in old movies (Jimmy Stewart did it to Doris Day).

My mother said, "It's very kind of you, Howard, but I can only sit down for a few minutes. I've got an aerobics class in half an hour".

**Wednesday 2nd**

Went over to Vince's to work on the play together. Writing the school play counts as homework, so it's okay during the week. Although to be honest, I think my parents are too distracted to really think about what I'm doing any more.

**Thursday 3rd**

My mother changed the sheets on my bed today, and found the _Fitness Monthly_ magazines and the copy of _Amateur Glamour_ under the mattress. We had an embarrassing talk about them when I got home from school. I kept wishing she would shut up about it.

She asked if I preferred looking at men or women, and I said "both" without really thinking about it. She suggested Vince might be hurt if I looked at the magazines, and I said he looked at them too. I could feel myself getting hot, because I kept thinking of the indecent magazines we looked at together, and how we only started kissing properly then. I kept fearing I was going to blurt that out, and how Vince wore a pink skirt like one of the glamour models, and how magic it felt putting my hands under it.

Dad came in, saw the magazines, and said, "Oh Pauline, don't go on at the lad. Those things are harmless. The people have clothes on and all". Mum said she was only trying to understand, and we should bring everything out into the open for a mature discussion, but Dad told her to leave it, and steered her out of my room.

He said as he left, "Read what you like, Howard, but keep magazines like that out of sight, understand? They're private". I thought under the mattress _was_ out of sight! I don't know if I can read them any more, knowing that my mother has been through them. They certainly don't seem very arousing now.

**Friday 4th**

I am reading _The Bear_ by Anton Chekhov. If I am going to be a playwright, I need to study the greats. It is very funny, actually. I like the idea of two people being in love with each other and not realising it, even fighting with each other and not realising it. Maybe Vince and I could have something like that in a future play.

**Saturday 5th**

Had a letter from my grandparents to ask why I haven't sent them a Christmas card yet, so I went to Mr Cherry's shop and bought a pack of a dozen cards. Spent the afternoon thinking of people to send cards to. I really don't know that many. I even sent one to Jack Kodiak.

**Sunday 6th**   
_Second in Advent_

We had dinner with my grandparents in Wakefield today. It is the first time they have seen my mother since she returned from Sheffield. They are so excited about the upcoming baby that all was forgiven and forgotten in an instant. Nana hopes the next grandchild will be a girl. She says, "You can dress girls nicely". She has already knitted a purple matinee jacket and half a pair of bootees. She is using neutral colours, "just in case". I dread the day there are feet in those bootees.

**Monday 7th**

We had our first rehearsal today for the school play. It was a disaster. I can't act. I can't act Shakespeare, and I can't act my own play. I kept getting the chokes and freezing. I was almost in tears of frustration, and Vince kept saying it was alright, but he looked dead worried.

**Tuesday 8th**

Dad is under a lot of pressure to replace me in the school play. But if I'm not in it, Vince will refuse to be in either, and nobody else can play these roles. We wrote them for ourselves. I'm so worried, but Dad says he will think of something.

**Wednesday 9th**

Today at rehearsal, Dad smiled, and said I would be working alone with a drama coach named Montgomery Flange while he read my lines for the rest of the cast. Montgomery is dead old, and claims to be the greatest stage actor of his generation. He knew John Gielgud, and when I asked what he was like, Montgomery replied, “A little bitch”. Montgomery hasn't worked for several years now, and he kept blaming someone named Sammy, but I think he's just too old to get any parts.

We went to an unused classroom for my drama lessons. It was weird, because Montgomery made me strip down to my vest and pants, and put on tights. He said all great actors wear tights. Then we did these exercises that seemed stupid and pointless, like pretending a pencil was made of cheese, or acting out a scene where I lose my ladder. He kept saying that I needed to act with my whole face, and learn to tell a story using my nose.

The whole thing seemed completely mad, and I don't see how any of it will help me get over the chokes.

**Thursday 10th**

I arrived for rehearsal, not feeling confident. At first, I froze just like I did before. But then I remembered what Montgomery said about the pencil, and I said my line, as easy as that. And then each line became filled with emotion. I don't have the chokes any more!

I asked Dad how he found Montgomery Flange, and he said he met him at the bar in the Nag's Head.

**Friday 11th**   
_Full Moon_

My mother  
Princess Diana  
Queenie's cat

What do all of them have in common? They are all expecting babies or kittens. A lot of women in our suburb are expecting, you can't walk down the street without bumping into a mother to be. It's all been since we got commercial radio, I notice.

**Saturday 12th**

My mother wants to move. She wants to sell the house that I have lived in all my life. She said that we will need more room “for the baby”. How stupid can you get? Babies hardly take up any space at all. They are only about twenty-one inches long.

**Sunday 13th**   
_Third in Advent_

We put up the Christmas tree today, it looks quite festive. As we all hung baubles and tinsel on the tree together, I thought that this was the kind of family moment I wanted my mother to come home for. It's surprising how few of these moments we actually get, on the whole. But they are nice when you get them. I tried not to think about next Christmas, when we will have a stinking baby around the place.

**Monday 14th**

Another letter from the BBC!

_Dear Howard Moon,_

_Thank you for submitting your latest poem. I understood it perfectly well once it had been typed. However, Howard, understanding is not all. We have been inundated with autumnal poems. The smell of bonfires and the crackling of leaves pervades the very corridors. Good try, but try again, eh?_

_By the way, I was pleased to see you have begun editing your own literary magazine. You will find it helps your writing enormously, and perhaps you will also begin to have a modicum of sympathy towards other editors._

_Yours with best wishes,_

_Terry Wogan_

“Try again”! He is almost giving me a commission. I have written back to him:

_Dear Mr Wogan,_

_How much will I get if you broadcast one of my poems on the radio? When do you want me to send it? What do you want it to be about? Can I read it out myself? Will you pay my train fare in advance? What time will it go out on the airways? I have to be in bed by ten._

_Yours faithfully,_

_H. Moon_

_PS I hope you have a dead good Christmas._

**Tuesday 15th**

The school play is going really good. I actually look forward to rehearsals, now that I don't have the chokes. It is an experimental comedy called _Arctic Tundra_. Vince and I play two zookeepers who travel to the North Pole in search of a gigantic gemstone and get captured by a Yeti. It's not strictly about Christmas, but it's got snow in it, and I think the overall message is quite uplifting.

**Wednesday 16th**

I have just found a list at the bottom of my mother's shopping basket.

FOR

Might be a girl

More Family Allowance

AGAINST

Loss of independence

Not sure if George wants it

Months of looking like the side of a house

Pain during labour

Howard bound to be jealous

Dog might not take to it

Too old????

Varicose veins

**Thursday 17th**

I pretended to be enthusiastic about the baby at breakfast today. I asked my mother if she had thought of any names yet. She said, “Yes. If it's a girl, I'd like to call her her Mirabel”.

Mirabel Moon! It sounds like a Beatrix Potter character. Nobody is called Mirabel. The poor kid.

**Friday 18th**   
_Moon's Last Quarter_

Today's rehearsal of _Arctic Tundra_ was a fiasco. I tripped and fell on the igloo and broke it, so the Woodwork teacher Mr Animba has got to make another one.

Mr Bainbridge sat at the back of the gym and watched rehearsals. He had a face like the north side of the Eiger by the time we'd got to the bit where Vince makes friends with a polar bear.

He took Dad into the showers for a “Quiet Word”. We all heard every word he shouted. He said he wanted a traditional Christmas play, with a Tiny Tears doll playing baby Jesus, and three wise men wearing dressing gowns and tea towels. He threatened to cancel the play if Vince didn't stop dancing to Gary Numan dressed in a tracksuit.

This is typical of Bainbridge. He is nothing but a small-minded, provincial, sexually-inhibited fascist pig. How he rose to become a headmaster I do not know. He has been wearing the same hairy green suit for three years in a row. How can we change it all now? The play is being performed Tuesday afternoon.

**Saturday 19th**

Mum took me Christmas shopping at Lewis's. The Christmas grotto is no longer as exciting as it once was, although I admit they do a marvellous job every year. Mum asked if I wanted to see Father Christmas, but I told her with scorn I was far too mature and worldly-wise for such things. All I wanted was Mum back for Christmas, and I've got that now anyway.

I was allowed to have some of my savings to pay for Christmas. I couldn't decide whether to get Vince a football sticker album, or some Chanel No. 5. Mum said scent is more personal. I got the Chanel. My other presents:

Mum – _The Complete Book of Pregnancy and Childbirth_  
Dad – Kevin Keegan key ring  
Nana – tea towel  
Grandpa – handkerchief  
Auntie Susan – tin of Nivea cream  
Dog – dog chocolates  
Lester – pack of Gauloises  
Sabre – pack of Bob Martins  
Leroy – family size box of Maltesers

After shopping, we had lunch together at the restaurant, which we do every year. I had bangers and mash with gravy, followed by jelly and custard. Mum gave me half her chocolate eclair and half of her chips as well.

**Sunday 20th**   
_Fourth in Advent_

Vince and I had a private play rehearsal in my bedroom. We improvised a great scene where our characters are tied up back to back in the ice, and my character hesitantly tells Vince's that he loves him, and Vince's says it back. Only they have a stupid quarrel about nothing, but when they are set free, they stop quarrelling, and my character suddenly kisses Vince's. We kept practising the kissing scene, even though we knew we could never put it in the play. The scene got more and more passionate the longer we rehearsed it.

After tea, my mother casually mentioned that she was going to wear her mink coat to the school play. Shock! Horror! Vince has had it since April!

I immediately went round to Vince's to get the mangy coat, only to find Queenie had borrowed it to go to the Sunshine Lane Residential Care Home Christmas party with Lester! Vince said he didn't realise the coat was on loan, he thought it was a gift. He must be mad – I can't afford to give away fur coats!

I will have to go round before school and sneak the coat home. It's going to be difficult, but nothing in my life is easy or straightforward any more. I feel like a character in a Russian play half the time.

**Monday 21st**

Woke up in a panic attack and saw it was already 8:10 am on my digital clock. One glance out the window confirmed my fears – snow lay on the ground like a white carpet.

I stumbled through the snow to Vince's place wearing my father's fishing boots, but found the house devoid of human life. I looked through the letter box and saw the mink coat being mauled about by Queenie's ginger cat. I shouted and swore at it, but the lousy stinking cat just gave me a sarcastic look and carried on dragging the coat down the hall.

I had no choice but to go around the back and enter the house through the side door – they never bother locking it properly. I rushed into the hall and rescued the coat from the cat, leaving as quickly as anyone wearing thigh-length fishing boots four sizes too big _can_ leave.

I put the fur coat on to keep me warm on my hazardous journey home, feeling just like a real Arctic explorer. I nearly lost my bearings at the corner of Hayward Avenue and Potter's Drive, but I fought my way through the blizzard until I saw the familiar sight of the prefabricated garages on the corner of our cul-de-sac.

I fell into our kitchen in a state of hypothermia and severe exhaustion. My mother was making mince pies. She screamed, “What the bloody hell are you doing wearing my mink coat?”. She was not concerned like a mother is supposed to be. She fussed about, wiping snow off the coat and drying the fur with a hair dryer. She didn’t even offer to make me a cup of tea.

She said, “It’s been on the radio that the school is closed because of the snow, so you can make yourself useful and check the camp beds for rust. Grandma and Grandpa Sugden are staying for Christmas.” The Sugdens! My mother’s family from Suffolk! Yuk, yuk, yuk. They are all inbred and can’t speak properly!

I went to see Vince this afternoon and explain about the coat. When Queenie opened the door, she looked quite panicked and said she had just phoned the police, as they had had a break in and the place had been left a shambles. I think the cat made most of the mess, but the fishing boots didn't help. She said luckily the only thing missing was an old coat Vince had lined the cat's basket with.

I apologised for the mess, and helped to clean up, but I was in a fury with Vince. I was just about ready to quit the school play, and tell Vince he could find another writing and acting partner, and another boyfriend. But when Vince came I decided to forgive him, because he said the cat just became a mother, and a new mother deserves a little bit of luxury.

He took me to see the kittens. Their eyes are still closed. There are three – one ginger, one silver-grey, and one ginger and white. Vince said the biggest kitten is named Howard. After we saw the kittens, we went tobogganing in the snow on the slope behind the co-op bakery. We pretended we were Arctic explorers, and later on we had another private rehearsal that ended in kissing.

**Tuesday 22nd**

School was closed this morning because most of the teachers couldn’t manage to get in on time because of the snow. That will teach them to live in old farm houses and converted barns out in the country!

Dad drove Mum, me, Vince, and Queenie to the school concert. Dad sat with us as if he was an ordinary father and had nothing to do with the school play! He held Mum's hand. Maybe it was the mink coat, but you could hardly tell she is pregnant.

The school concert was not a success. The bell ringing from class One-G went on too long. My father whispered, “The bells! The bells!”, and my mother laughed too loudly and made Mr Bainbridge look at her. The school orchestra was a disaster! My mother said, “When are they going to stop tuning-up and start playing?”. I told her that they had just played a Mozart horn concerto. That made my mother and father and Queenie start laughing in a very unmannerly fashion.

The Dumbo class got up and sang a few boring old carols. Barry Kent sang all the vulgar versions (I know because I was watching his lips) then they sat down cross-legged, and “Brainbox” Henderson from Five-K played a trumpet, piano, and violin. The smarmy git looked dead superior when he was bowing during his applause.

Then it was the interval and time for me and Vince to change into our green zip-up jacketed zookeeper costumes, and Dad finally started acting like a teacher and barked orders to us. The tension backstage was electric. I stood in the wings (a theatrical term – it means the side of the stage) and watched the audience filing back into their places. The music from _2001: A Space Odyssey_ boomed out over the stereo speakers, and the curtains opened on an abstract zoo. I just had time to whisper to Vince, “Break a leg, darling”, before Dad pushed us out into the lights.

My performance was brilliant! I really got under the skin of my character. Vince was very good too, and his dance with the polar bear to Gary Numan was beautiful, even though Mr Bainbridge looked baleful throughout his entire performance. The Yeti made too much noise and spoiled my monologue, and Black Frost was hissed at so loudly that I don't think the audience properly heard my electric bass guitar solo, which was a waste. Still, all in all, it was well received.

Mr Bainbridge got up and made a hypocritical speech about “a brave experiment” and “Mister Moon's tireless work behind the scenes”, and then we all sang _The Little Drummer Boy_. Driving home in the car my mother said, “That was the funniest play I have ever seen. I think you must have a natural gift for comedy, Howard. And you too, Vince”.

We modestly said nothing. But Mum is the first person to recognise our talents.

**Wednesday 23rd**

_9 am:_ Have just realised I spent all my money on Christmas presents, and I won't get any pocket money until after the New Year. I'm completely skint! I will have to go out carol singing. There is nothing else I can do to raise funds.

_10 pm:_ Just got back from carol singing. The suburban houses were a dead loss. People shouted, “Come back at Christmas”, without even opening the door. My most appreciative audience were the drunks staggering in and out of the Nag's Head. Some of them wept openly at the beauty of my solo rendition of _The First Noël_. I must say that I presented a touching picture as I stood in the snow with my young face lifted to the heavens ignoring the scenes of drunken revelry around me.

I made €3.14, plus an Irish ten-pence and a Guinness bottle-top. I'm going out again tomorrow. I will wear my school uniform. It should be worth a few extra quid.

**Thursday 24th**   
_Christmas Eve_

Queenie, Vince and I went to visit Lester at the home. I gave him his Gauloises for Christmas, but Lester was hurt I hadn't been to see him for so long. I said I did come a few times, but he was always out with Queenie. Queenie smiled and said they were causing a scandal at the home, and Lester said that he and Queenie are engaged. “Unofficially”, he added.

Vince asked what will happen to him if Queenie and Lester get married, but Queenie hugged him, and said, “Oh, I'm sure it will be alright, pet. It will look even better to Social Services, me not being a single lady any more”. Vince and I eventually remembered to say congratulations.

I have invited Lester, Queenie, and Vince for Christmas. I am sure Mum won't mind. We have a big turkey. I sang a few carols for the old ladies at the home. I made €2.11 out of them.

The house looks dead clean and sparkling. There is a magic smell of cooking and satsumas in the air. I have searched around for my presents but they are not in the usual places. I want a racing bike, nothing else will please me. It’s time I was independently mobile.

_11 pm:_ Just got back from the Nag's Head. Vince came with me. We wore our school uniforms and reminded all the drunks of their own children. They coughed up conscience money to the tune of €12.57. So we are going to see a pantomime on Boxing Day and we will have a family bar of Cadbury’s Dairy Milk each!

**Friday 25th**   
_Christmas Day_

Got up at 5 am to have a ride on my new racing bike. I couldn't ride far because of the snow, but it didn't matter. I just like looking at it. My father had written on the gift tag attached to the handlebars, _Don’t leave it out in the rain this time_ – as if I would!

My parents had severe hangovers, so I took them breakfast in bed and gave them my presents at the same time. Everything was going okay until I casually mentioned that Lester, Queenie, and Vince were my guests for the day, and would Dad mind getting out of bed and picking them up in his car.

There was a massive row, and it went on until the lousy Sugdens arrived. My Grandfather and Grandmother Sugden, and my Uncle Terry and his wife Marcia and son Maurice all look the same, as if they went to funerals every day of their lives. I can hardly believe my mother is related to them. The Sugdens refused a drink, and had a cup of tea while my mother defrosted the turkey in the bath.

I helped Dad carry Lester (14 stone) into the house. Vince was looking adorable in a huge red Christmas jumper Queenie knitted for him, it looked like a short dress, and he had striped green trousers underneath it. He had a reindeer earring that Claire gave him, and after I gave him his present, he dabbed himself in Chanel No 5.

Queenie had dyed her hair a specially bright shade of purplish-red, had lots of makeup on, and was wearing a long aqua blue woollen dress with a silver sequinned jacket. She looked spectacular. Lester is in love with her. He told me when I was helping him use the downstairs toilet.

Grandpa and Nana Moon arrived at twelve-thirty, bringing Auntie Susan with them. They pretended to like the Sugdens. Auntie Susan told some amusing stories about prison life, but nobody except me, Vince, Dad, Lester, and Queenie laughed. Uncle Terry tried telling amusing stories about working at Luton Airport, but nobody laughed. Uncle Terry asked if Vince was a boy or a girl. Vince just smiled. I loudly said Vince was on the school football team, and my best friend. I wanted to shout he was my boyfriend and I loved him, but it was uncomfortable enough.

I went up to the bathroom and found my mother crying and running the turkey under the hot tap. She said, “The bloody thing won't thaw out, Howard. What am I going to do?”. I told her to just bung it in the oven, so she did.

Christmas dinner was four hours late. Luckily, Nana had brought a ham with her, and Queenie brought some pigs in blankets, so we didn't starve, but even so some people were very drunk by the time the food arrived. The Sugdens enjoyed the Queen's Speech but nothing else pleased them. Grandma Sugden gave me a book called _A Book of Bible Heroes for Boys_. I couldn't tell her I had lost my faith, so I said thank you and forced myself to smile until it hurt.

The Sugdens went to their camp beds at 10 pm. Lester and Queenie played cards with my mother and father while Vince and I polished my bike. We all had a good time making jokes about the Sugdens. Then my father drove Lester, Queenie, and Vince home, but not before I had whispered in Vince's ear that I loved him more than life itself.

I am going round to Vince's tomorrow to escort him to the pantomime.

**Saturday 26th**   
_Boxing Day. Bank Holiday in UK and Rep. of Ireland. New Moon_

The Sugdens got up at 7 am and sat around in their best clothes looking respectable. I went out on my bike. When I got home, my mother was still in bed, and my father was arguing with Grandpa Sugden about the dog's behaviour, so I went for another ride.

I rode all the way to Wakefield to visit Nana and Grandpa and Auntie Susan. I ate four mince pies, then rode home. It only took me about an hour each way, and I got up to 30 mph on the dual carriageway, it was dead good.

In the afternoon, I put on my new corduroy trousers and suede jacket, and used the aftershave that Vince gave me for Christmas. It was a proud moment, signifying that my childhood had ended. Then it was time for Vince and I to catch the bus into town to see _Cinderella_ at the City Varieties.

We both enjoyed the pantomime, but I found it slightly childish for my tastes. Cinderella and the Prince were good, but the Ugly Stepsisters were best. The Fairy Godmother gave a hilarious performance, greatly aided by Buttons.

Vince had not seen a pantomime before, so for him it was a revelation, and he laughed and squealed the whole way through. He thought the best part was when they brought a real horse on stage to pull the carriage (of course a very small one), and was delighted by the traditional rock fight, using sponges painted to look like rocks. Vince threw an excellent shot which hit an Ugly Stepsister in the face.

Vince said we should put a rock fight in our stage play, but with something else. I suggested satsumas, having eaten one before the pantomime. When we got to Vince's, Queenie was out, visiting Lester at the home, and there was a big bowl of satsumas. We stripped down to our underwear so as not to get juice on our good clothes, and had a go choreographing a satsuma fight. It made a bit of mess in the kitchen, so Vince said maybe next time we would do it outside. I was too busy mopping up juice to answer.

**Sunday 27th**   
_First after Christmas_

The Sugdens have gone back to Suffolk and Luton, thank God!

The house is back to its usual mess. My parents took a bottle of vodka and two glasses to bed last night. I haven't seen them since.

Went to Halifax on my bike. The round trip only took five hours.

**Monday 28th**

I am in trouble for leaving my bike outside last night. My parents are not speaking to me. I don't care. I have just had a shave, and I feel magic.

**Tuesday 29th**

My father is in a bad mood because there is only VP sherry left to drink. He has gone round to Queenie's to borrow a bottle of spirits.

The dog has pulled the Christmas tree down. All the pine needles are stuck in the carpet.

I have finished all my Christmas books, and the library is still closed. I am reduced to reading my father's _Reader's Digests_ and testing my word power.

**Wednesday 30th**

We were looking through the photo album at our holiday in Wales, and my father said we probably won't have a summer holiday next year, as we'll have the nipper by then. My mother got dead mad. She said having a baby was not going to restrict her. She said if she felt like climbing the Himalayas next year, she would strap the baby to her back and go.

The Himalayas! She moans if she has to walk to the bus stop!

**Thursday 31st**

The last day of 1981! A lot has happened this year. I have fallen in love. Been a one-parent child. Gone intellectual. And had two letters from the BBC. Not bad going for a 14 and 2/3 year old.

I read over my New Year's Resolutions from January, to see how many I fulfilled.

1\. I wrote in my diary every day, except when we went camping in the Yorkshire Dales and I couldn't fit it in my rucksack.  
2\. I made Stationary Village to keep my pens and pencils tidy.  
3\. I did my jazz exercises nearly every night.  
4\. I helped an elderly blind man (Lester), and I'm trying to help my mother, a pregnant woman.  
5: I have not yet become the world's greatest slap-bass guitarist, and I'm starting to despair a little, but I have not given up trying.  
6\. I took the dog for a walk every night I was home, and I only needed to be asked a few times.  
7\. I made a friend who is interested in jazz – Lester.  
8\. I am okay talking to girls. I talk to Claire and Julie all the time.

My father and mother have gone to a New Year's Eve dance at the Queen's Hotel. My mother wore a long loose dress with a matching jacket, and you still couldn't tell she is pregnant.

Vince and I saw the New Year in together. We had a dead passionate session in my bedroom. The best part was when Vince took off his jeans, saying “Surprise!”, and gazing at me from under his mascara-tinted eyelashes. He was wearing black lace knickers with red ribbons on them, and looked superb. It was after that things got very passionate. We missed the celebrations in Trafalgar Square because we felt so passionate.

Afterwards Vince lay in my arms, snuggled into me, and I kissed the top of his head. We may have crossed over from medium to heavy petting. I felt a strange feeling settle over me. I think it is happiness. Whatever it is, it feels magic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howard must be thinking of Alfred Hitchcock's 1956 “The Man Who Knew Too Much”, with Jimmy Stewart and Doris Day. I can't recall a scene exactly like this, although Stewart does have to do a certain amount of soothing a distraught Day in the early part of the film.
> 
> Howard reads “The Bear”, a one-act comedy by Russian playwright Anton Chekhov (1888). The main characters are a man and a woman who quarrel and fight before admitting they are attracted to each other. “The Complete Book of Pregnancy and Childbirth” by Sheila Kitzinger (1978) is a classic book for new parents, one of the first to advocate for natural childbirth. “A Book of Bible Heroes for Boys” is fictional. 
> 
> Animba is a Nigerian surname, as a hint to the Woodwork teacher's heritage.
> 
> The Eiger is a mountain in the Swiss Alps, of grim and forbidding appearance.
> 
> Commercial radio came to Leeds on September 1 1981, when Radio Aire began broadcasting to Leeds and Wakefield. It seems unlikely it could have affected the fertility rate.
> 
> Lewis's was a major department store, now defunct. The Leeds branch was on The Headrow, and opened in 1932 (it closed in the 1990s). Lewis's was famous for its Christmas grottoes, with a different theme every year. 
> 
> Bob Martin make dog treats. Maltesers are a brand of chocolate candy. Bangers and mash is sausages with mashed potato.
> 
> It snowed heavily in December 1981, the winter that year being one of the coldest, snowiest, and most severe, classified as a “cold wave”. The night of December 12th set records for its freezing temperatures, with many places snowbound for weeks (even the queen got stuck in a pub for a few hours). By the 14th, snow was a metre deep in the Yorkshire Dales. December 1981 was the snowiest month of the 20th century. If anything, I have underplayed the snowy weather – although it may have subconsciously affected Howard and Vince's Arctic play.
> 
> The Leeds City Varieties on Swan Street is a rare example of a 19th century music hall which remains in use. You can still see pantomimes here at Christmas, but I don't really know which one they did in 1981. Leeds has a pantomime tradition of anarchic “rock” fights, using sponges painted to look like rocks, but it's now become a boulder fight with foam boulders. I saw this as a possible inspiration for the satsuma fights in The Mighty Boosh. 
> 
> VP sherry is very cheap and very sweet. Apparently the Moons don't think it's worth drinking (they probably bought it for cooking).
> 
> “Reader's Digest” magazine has a Test Your Wordpower quiz in each issue. 
> 
> The Queen's Hotel is an Art Deco style building dating to the 1930s, although a hotel has been on the site since the 19th century. They still hold fancy New Year's Eve balls. 
> 
> The BBC televised the New Year's Eve midnight celebrations in London's Trafalgar Square. Howard and Vince missed seeing it because they were otherwise engaged.


End file.
